


Starcrossed Mirage

by gatekat, Verilidaine



Series: Starcrossed [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bonding, Gang Rape, M/M, Mech Preg, Oral Sex, Sexual Seals, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 116,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an untouched noble second creation joins the Autobots, the last thing he expected to find was love.<br/>Set between Starcrossed ch 50 through 53.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wanting Something Beautiful

~Hey Sides, you should _see_ this mech,~ Sunstreaker purred deeply, his optics locked on the slender, light-armored racing frame that was watching rather than participating. ~He's _gorgeous_. I didn't think anything like him still existed.~

~Sunny, with your standards, I'm surprised _anyone_ on base could be ranked as gorgeous,~ his twin answered with the clear sound of an optic roll coming over the bond. ~Lemme see. ... Ooh, he _is_. Damn I need to get to the start line, though. You'll have to initiate contact, bro.~

~Can't I just keep track of him....~ 

~Absolutely not! What if he gets away! Now go forth!~

~You know I suck at this.~ Sunstreaker sighed in resignation even as he made his way towards the deliciously lightly armored creature in light blue and white. "Umm. Hi," he extended his field to brush against the noble racer's, only to find it held much more tightly than most would and when he did make contact it was with a bristling _leave me alone_ vibe that not even he usually wore.

A matching, archly cold expression greeted him when the mech glanced over his shoulder to see who was invading his space. "Yes? Do you need something?"

Definitely a noble. One with some rank to him, too, and an Autobot brand?

That didn't compute in a big way, but Sunstreaker steeled himself and gave the best, most honest complement he could. "There aren't many mecha who take care of themselves so well here."

A short, equally cold laugh greeted that and the mech turned to face him directly, with an expression that could only be described as scathing disdain on his face. "Right, let's hear it," he said. When Sunstreaker was too startled and confused by that to answer immediately, the optic brow just arched higher. "Well then, to cover my bases, I am aware that this is not a full service hotel and washrack. Additionally, I supply my own polish, thank you very much. If you're looking to discuss rates, you'll have to do so with my boss, but I warn you, I cost more than you'll want to pay, and if you try to lay a hand on me without both his permission and mine, first I will tear you apart, and then he will. If you don't have anything interesting or unique to say now, you can go away. Is that perfectly clear?"

"What crawled up your exhaust and rusted?" Sunstreaker's temper got the better of him and he puffed up in a reflexive threat display.

"Plebeians," Mirage said with a shrug as he turned back to the race that was beginning.

"I should have known. Noble isn't worth the scrap he's built from," Sunstreaker hissed, his temper escalating to the point that nearby mecha began to shift away uneasily. "You wouldn't survive a decaorn without protection."

"Luckily I have the kind of finesse so _badly_ needed around here to warrant protection," Mirage said with a smug smile, not even bothering with a glance. "Run along, Sunbeam, I promise you don't want to mess with what I have in my corner."

Sunstreaker's engine roared with rage as he aimed a full-strength punch right for the noble's upper back.

The smaller mech ducked down before it could hit and then spun in a move that looked like it belonged in a dance instead of in a fist fight, leg shooting out and catching Sunstreaker's wrist with his ankle, knocking it effectively away. 

And then he vanished.

As startled as Sunstreaker was at that, he's survived too long and trained for unfavorable conditions, including the loss of his optics, to be completely helpless against an unseen foe. He extended his field as far as he could and focused, seeking any hint of the mech that wasn't quite as helpless as he'd assumed.

He got about three nanokliks of notice to get his arm up next to his helm before the next kick could hit and he grabbed the leg, slamming the other mech down to the ground. 

A surprised grunt as he hit, and a heel ground into his hand as the other leg squirmed away, and then Sunstreaker could make out the path the mech was taking through the crowds by the way mecha parted for nothing. 

So he was running. Figured.

Sunstreaker huffed and let him go, slowly forcing his systems to stand down as he focused on the last of the race his brother was in.

* * *

The next time either twin caught sight of the blue and white noble was at one of the regular metacycle base-wide combat meets, in which anyone in the Autobot army that hadn't won recently could sign up and compete for the top prize of double rations for the entire next metacycle.

Sideswipe was in the crowd waiting for his match to come up, watching the dozen or so paired-up circles in one of the early rounds when he spotted the flashing movements. ~Hey, Sunny,~ he smirked. ~Found that _gorgeous_ thing that kicked your aft.~

~He did not kick my aft. He ran away,~ Sunstreaker snapped even as he focused where his brother was looking. ~He looks even better moving like that.~

Sideswipe purred in agreement. ~Better to watch from afar, though, the effect sours up close. Mm, your match is starting soon.~

~Yeah, thanks,~ Sunstreaker said, and took off through the crowd, leaving Sideswipe alone to watch. 

His gaze kept coming back to the noble, fighting a heavier grounder, a small tank-former. His fighting looked more like a dance, and he was holding his own against a mech that looked three or even four times his mass.

Pit, better than holding his own, the noble was kicking aft. His opponent looked almost bewildered by the speed the smaller, lighter frame was capable of and it was an almost comical defeat as Mirage was moved along to the next round. 

Sunstreaker's round came up, then Sideswipe's, and then the red twin found himself watching the noble as match after match went by and the three of them continued to advance towards the finals. By the end of the third orn, when it was down to the final eight mecha, the senior officers began to make their appearance.

Jazz could be counted on, both because he was social and because it was a given that at least one of his SpecOps mecha would be in the finals. It was a not-so-secret that Jazz was careful about which of his mecha were even allowed to enter. It was almost always restricted to the newer members, or those who didn't get into the field much. Sideswipe was fairly sure that Jazz also showed up because he and Sunstreaker were almost always finalists too, even if his brother disagreed.

What they both accepted was that Prowl's appearances were due to them. It was known that if they weren't in the finals, Prowl didn't show.

In the first round of the finals Sideswipe faced off against his brother, and that was by far the most attended match of the entire competition up to this point, including the others in the round. Just the news that the infamous frontliner twins were going up against each other seemed enough to draw most of the base. 

Or at least it felt like it, with the way the crowd was screaming as they fought. That round lasted the longest, easily, as well, and in the end, Sideswipe only won by default, because he was the one more in control of the pin when the overtime ran out. 

Everyone was so busy cheering at him as he limped out of the ring that the next match, the noble against a scout, went almost entirely unnoticed. 

Sideswipe noticed, though, and he was starting to grow more and more impressed. And he wasn't about to admit it, but a little wary. The noble won in less than a groon. 

Then it was four.

After quick field repairs he faced off against another frontliner, a big black mech with arm cannons that he'd watched level entire Decepticon units by himself. Blacklight was a brute, and one of the few cases where Sideswipe knew he had to rely on smarts and speed because strength and mass very much went to his opponent.

~Go get him. It's past time we got to enjoy the full spoils of your skill.~ Sunstreaker's mental support was completely with him, giving him an extra boost.

Sideswipe rumbled and stretched his neck as he stepped into the ring, his twin at his back and the crowd watching from every angle, and the cheer was absolutely deafening. 

He could see Jazz and Prowl sitting together with the other officers, and even the Prime had shown up by now. The noble was waiting with his designated competitor for the round, a Seekerkin flight frame. 

So great, no pressure. 

Still, compared to the Kaon arenas--Sideswipe smirked as he felt his twin's rumble of agreement with that thought--this was _nothing._

In the ring everything was a flurry of ducks, dodges, weaves, and for once he was by far the lighter fighter so Sideswipe was having to use every last bit of agility in his arsenal. Of everything, he found himself remembering the noble's techniques, and in the end, he brought Blacklight down in a hard pin to the deafening roar of the crowd. 

His jubilant twin greeted him with a heavy thump to the back and they settled to watch the next match to find out which of the light, fast frames Sideswipe would be facing last. While both their optics were locked onto the stage as the competitors were introduced, they were also both performing field repairs on Sideswipe. He'd need every advantage he could get.

Mirage was introduced to vocal encouragement from Jazz and much of the crowd. The noble wasn't socially popular, but he was a vision to watch fight. His opponent gave away his best advantage with his designation: Sonic.

Mirage, however, was _fast_. The balance of the match went back and forth almost faster than could be followed by most of the audience, but Sideswipe was starting to get the kind of anxious feeling that Mirage was _toying_ with his opponent. Oh, not by a lot, but enough that the effect was noticeable when Sonic wasn't pushing him almost into a pin. 

~Sunny...~ he said, frowning, as the noble took a very real, very hard hit that he turned right back around on his opponent. ~Is it just me, or is he just...~

~Playing with him. Yeah. That hit _hurt_. He's tougher than he looks. But ... well, Jazz is cheering for him. And he turns invisible. He's got to be SpecOps.~ Sunstreaker murmured, watching the match with an even more critical optic. ~What isn't to want in that package?~

~Any part where he opens his mouth,~ Sideswipe snorted, and started to stretch out, only to bite back a groan at the mental image his brother supplied of _one_ activity where they'd want the noble to open his mouth, just not to talk. ~Fragging unhelpful, Sunny. Yeah, he's gonna win this round. All right. Let's see who calls _my_ twin a plebeian and gets away with it.~

As predicted, the match was over within another matter of kliks. Both finalists were afforded a grace period with a combat-certified medic and Jazz came down out of the audience to lend a hand. It became quickly clear that no one else was going to help the noble, whereas Sideswipe had his brother and a solid group of battlemates to help, so neither twin could begrudge him their carrier. 

Then the grace period was over, and Sideswipe was facing the deceptively slender noble across the ring. The light blue and white mech with the yellow optics looked nothing like a mecha that should have made it to face Sideswipe in the final round. He didn't teek of it, either. Oh, Mirage was confident of himself and his skill, Sideswipe could tell that by stance and teek clearly enough. Arrogant, too. Granted you had to be _good_ to make it to the finals, but not even Sideswipe was that arrogant, not even with his brother at his side.

Mirage moved first, a lightning fast dart and feint to strike at one of the few weak points in his armor: the hip joint. He blocked it, just barely, and then he was pushed into the defensive against a rapid series of spins and strikes towards other weaknesses that, if hit the right way, would definitely lose him this match. In the part of his processor that wasn't working out how to switch this around to the offense as rapidly as possible, Sideswipe had to admit he was impressed. 

Actually, he was _very_ impressed. Mech knew his strengths and weaknesses and knew how to find his opponent's. 

And as horribly tempting it was to start flirting with him, Sideswipe kept his mouth closed and focused on the fight. Extra rations were more important than pissing the haughty noble off. The bond pulsed with wordless support, a simple, solid presence that backed him up and made him stronger for not being alone even when he was fighting alone.

Sideswipe finally got a good move in and caught Mirage's shin with his hand. It hurt, it would take an orn or two to stop aching, but he knew how to catch a far more powerful attack without crippling himself.

A quick flip had the noble pulled from his offensive stance and the entire rhythm changed after that as Sideswipe pushed forward, larger, denser, almost as fast and now with the clear advantage. He forced Mirage into defending his right, then dove in and grabbed the left ankle and gripped tight enough to weaken the joint without truly damaging it. 

Even after that he was working, hard, to keep his advantage, but every step on that side was slowing the noble down and Sideswipe settled into a careful rhythm of picking at his weak points until he was worn down, and then went in for the tackle and pin. Once he had his hands solidly on that frame there was literally nothing the much lighter and weaker mech could do but submit.

What really surprised Sideswipe was the lack of negative reaction to the pin. Sure, there was no doubt that Mirage was not pleased to have lost, but Sideswipe swore he teeked something like respect as he let the noble up after the match had been called. Nothing at all like the bitter, resentful defeat that he tended to find in these. 

Mirage tested his ankle out carefully, getting a feel for how much weight it was likely to hold, then gave Sideswipe a graceful nod that somehow managed to look like a full bow. "Thank you for showing me the areas in which I need improvement," he said, and when he wasn't being a downright slag sucker, his voice was actually ... _nice_. 

~Expected. Nobles do care,~ Sunstreaker mused over the bond as Sideswipe moved to join him in the riotous crowd. No matter who won, the end was always a party. It seemed unlikely that many bothered to watch, but both twins kept an optic on Mirage as he made a careful path to Jazz, Prowl and Ratchet. ~You know, when he said his boss, I never thought it was Jazz.~

~And he apparently didn't tell on you,~ Sideswipe said with a snort. ~Jazz woulda thrown you in the brig so fast. You know how he gets about his agents.~

Unspoken was the bitter knowledge that Jazz treated his agents more like his creations than he ever had the twins.

~Yeah, and that would have been getting off easy too,~ Sunstreaker huffed before they focused on enjoying the good mood around them.

* * *

~Just what did you do?~ Sideswipe hissed to his brother as they met up to answer the mutual summons down to the underground Ops base. 

~Me!~ Sunstreaker said, affronted. ~I didn't do anything!~

~Right, Jazz is summoning us to his personal office because he _likes_ us so much,~ Sideswipe said with a roll of his optics. They had to stop at the entrance to be scanned and have their IDs approved and then took a lift several levels down and over. Both were painfully aware that they were never not being watched once they passed the entrance and there was always someone close enough to stop them if they left the route they were expected to take.

~You never know,~ Sunstreaker said as they pinged for entrance and the door opened. ~Oh, slag,~ he said as they stepped in and he saw Jazz and Mirage waiting. 

~It _was_ you!~ Sideswipe said, equally surprised. ~...Why am _I_ here?~

But Mirage looked just as surprised to see them, and Jazz just looked bemused at the expressions on their faces. He gestured for them to sit opposite his desk. "I'm reassigning you from Prime's Guard, temporarily," he began. "This is Mirage, he has an assignment taking him to the frontlines and I need him to come back in one piece. You're going to ensure that." 

There was no missing the slightly startled ripple of displeasure across Mirage's frame, but he held silent and otherwise still, accepting the unwelcome addition.

Sunstreaker looked between the noble and Jazz a couple times. "Err, why us?"

Jazz gave them expression that looked like a silent, _Really?_ and leaned back in his chair. "Because I don't know anyone more qualified for this than you two, and I need this agent back. I'm not above using my connections to get you on the assignment to ensure that."

"Yes, sir," Sideswipe answered for them both. "We'll bring him back alive."

"And unharmed, would be nice," Jazz said with a faint smile, but there was no mistaking the stress in his frame.  
   
~So, never seen _that_ look on him before,~ Sideswipe said dryly. Sunstreaker grunted in agreement. 

"How long will you need to prepare?" Mirage asked with a sharp, icy efficiency. "I'm scheduled to take a transport out in eight joors."

"A lot less than that," Sideswipe said. "How long are we expected to be away from any base?"

"Nine to ten orns," Mirage replied coolly.

"We'll be ready," Sunstreaker nodded before Mirage stood without a word and left.

* * *

Half an orn on a fast, light shuttle took them to the primary Autobot base in Tyger Pax and the twins saw the first reason they were going to be useful. Mirage was invisible when he followed them off the shuttle. Anyone watching would see the famous frontliners and not think about who they might not be seeing.

As per orders the pair were assigned quarters, got a ration and settled in to recharge for the night. The next morning they headed out on a patrol without any visible company. Half a joor into their drive Mirage finally made his presence known by appearing ahead of them and turning off the road.

A mental glance and shrug at each other and they followed without hesitation, driving behind the SpecOps mech until driving wasn't safe, and then walking behind him through conditions that they were well familiar with, and were somewhat surprised to see Mirage handling as easily as he was. 

"We're camping here," Mirage finally announced when they reached a point that looked little different from the rest of it, but left them right on the frontline near a Decepticon base. "We will refuel and recharge ten joors per orn. You will offset your down time so at least one of you is on guard at all times. The rest will be spent there," he pointed to a ridge that would give a reasonably good view of the base. "You two will stay out of sight while I observe and get an idea of my target's routine." 

~Haven't had that kind of schedule since we were in an active battle line,~ Sunstreaker muttered, both annoyed and quite surprised, and impressed, at how little time the noble was taking for rest and that he even knew how to organize a watch.

"Understood," Sideswipe nodded as he and his brother settled. They'd both recharged in these conditions more vorns than they cared to think about, and in worse ones for vorns they refused to think about. "Which joors do you want double guard?"

"When I'm off shift," Mirage said. "This is going to be a lot of sitting around and being bored, but if we're lucky, it should be over in five orns or so." 

"Understood, nothing we're not used to," Sideswipe said, with emphasis on the _we_ , still finding himself a little dubious about the noble's ability to stick to such a schedule himself.

"When are you starting your first watch?" Sideswipe asked, then to his twin, ~First or second?~

Mirage gave him a disdainful look that seemed to say, _You're an idiot._. "Right now," he said, heading up towards his spot and pulling both a long-range rifle and a pair of field glasses out. 

Sunstreaker glared at the noble's back as he walked away. ~You'd better take first watch or I'm going to punch him right in his stupid noble face.~

~No problem,~ Sideswipe patted his brother's shoulder and stood to follow Mirage.

* * *

Four orns in, Sideswipe was getting a little restless. He was used to endless empty joors, but his joors had at least been filled with either walking or spending time with camp mates. Sitting in the same spot with absolutely nothing to do but watch the noble was about as interesting as the surrounding environment was scenic. 

He'd spent a lot of time watching Mirage, actually, out of lack of anything better and he was more or less, well, _shocked_ by how professional he was acting. Nothing at all like the finicky creature he'd expected. There were no complaints about the field rations or the recharging conditions, though he still took daily care of his frame, as much as possible given the environment. 

Sideswipe checked his chronometer again--Sunstreaker was _still_ in recharge--gave a dramatic sigh, and climbed up the hill next to Mirage. 

" _What_ are you _doing?_ " Mirage hissed immediately. "You could be spotted!" 

Sideswipe frowned at him. "And you couldn't?" 

Mirage looked him pointedly up and down. "You are bright red." 

"And you're bright blue and white," Sideswipe said with a shrug, settling down on his stomach next to him and looking at the base. "Whatcha looking for?"

"General Killdive. Starscream's SIC," Mirage whispered, his optics back on the base and its personnel movements.

Sideswipe looked back, and even straining his optics to the farthest focus he could barely tell mecha apart from this distance. He grabbed for Mirage's field glasses and looked through them, scanning the base. "If you're worried about being seen from here, why aren't you invisible?"

"You think that doesn't cost energy?" the noble scoffed. "The energon can't be spared for this mission."

Sideswipe tried not to roll his optics. "Just asking," he said, and huffed, settling in to watch the distant movements. After a while, during what looked like a shift change, Mirage slid back down the hill a little and reclined against it, pulling his rifle into his lap and taking it apart, as efficiently as he always did. Sideswipe actually thought that the noble might have spent more time on the weapon's maintenance than Sunny had on his frame. 

The clicks of taking it apart were even and efficient and Sideswipe found himself a little mesmerized by the rhythmic movements and he slid down to join the sniper. "You ... really know how to take care of that," he said. 

"Without it in perfect condition the entire mission will fail," Mirage pointed out simply, his focus on the movements of his hands over the parts as he inspected, polished, lubed and assembled them.

Sideswipe was reasonably sure that given a flat surface to work on, Mirage could, and quite probably had, done this blind. It took thousands of cycles of maintenance to get _that_ smooth. It was something he expected of a frontliner in the field. It wasn't something one expected of a noble that up until now he wasn't sure had even been outside of Iacon's primary base.

"It's impressive, is all," Sideswipe murmured, leaning in a little closer to get a better look at the black hands. "For a noble." 

Mirage shot him a scathing look. 

"Er," Sideswipe tried to backpedal quickly, "For a noble as new to military life as you are," he said. "Just ... I was thinking you'd be a lot more, finicky." 

"You don't know Jazz very well," Mirage managed to make the evenly spoken words a distinct insult. "I am Special Operations. No one is allowed out of training if they are not prepared to do what needs to be done without hesitation or complaint."

"Why don't I just stop trying to compliment you while I can still climb out of this hole, then, yeah?" Sideswipe chuckled. 

That actually made Mirage pause and look at the red warrior with surprise. "You were trying to compliment me?" Even his tone was far less acidic.

"Well yeah," Sideswipe grinned at him, his best version of "dashing." "Social graces of a space slug, right? Can't blame a mech for trying." He leaned in a bit closer and lowered his voice. "Please tell me I did better than my less handsome twin."

An honestly blank look crossed Mirage's fine features. "When did he try?"

Sideswipe's optics cycled in surprise. "Oh, uh, just, you know, in passing. Obviously not very memorable. Luckily for me, because I _really_ didn't do well with that. I'm usually a little better at this sort of thing, I promise." 

Mirage turned back to his weapon, picking up where he'd left off without hesitation. "I do not recommend spending the energy. I do not indulge in affairs."

"It's always worth the energy to tell a beautiful, talented creature that I think he's beautiful and talented," Sideswipe said with an easy grin and shrug as he turned back to look over the desolate landscape, while he fought down a flare of disappointment. "Anyway, I'm not lacking in quick 'faces, wouldn't put _nearly_ that much effort into it, believe me."

There was a flicker of something across Mirage's field. "What do you want from me then?"

"At the moment? Someone to talk to. I'm bored as slag. And I figured a compliment was more likely to get a response than an insult, right? But um..." Sideswipe hesitated. He really had just been bored, but ... well, no harm in trying. Worst that could happen would be getting clawed in the face, and that would heal in time anyway. It wasn't like they worked in the same department or saw each other often. He carefully lifted a hand to brush his knuckles _almost_ against the curve of Mirage's helm down the side of his face, just a micron away from touching him, close enough to feel the warmth. "Long term, haven't quite decided." 

He heard Mirage's vents, quiet as they were, catch just a fraction.

"I am only available to court for a bond, and only at Jazz's leave," Mirage said, barely above a whisper.

"...Oh," Sideswipe said, and his hand immediately dropped. "That's, well, that's kinda. Well." He cleared his vocalizer out a little, and got his grin back in face. "I can still talk to you, though, right? _Without_ Jazz's permission?" He couldn't emphasize how important that last point was enough.

"Yes, I suppose so." Mirage settled himself by focusing on assembling his sniper riffle, a weapon that was nearly as tall as he was and heavy even by Sideswipe's standards. "You have a history with my commander?"

"We try to keep our interactions brief," Sideswipe said dryly. "He and Sunny are about as friendly as Prime and Megatron would be, I bet."

"Yet he trusts you with me," Mirage pointed out as he moved back up to the ridge.

"Yeah, 'cause even he can tell we're awesome," Sideswipe said, looking up at him and grinning, and let the noble settle back into his vigilant watch.

* * *

On orn seven, Mirage was finally ready to set up for the shot.

"Remember, as soon as I confirm the hit, head back to base as fast as you can," he told the pair firmly. "I'll be invisible for the first joor, or until I'm sure we're clear of pursuit."

"Yeah, we've got it," Sunstreaker growled at him. "Just because we didn't have some fancy education doesn't make us _morons._ " 

Sideswipe elbowed his twin sharply. "Confirm the hit, book it to base. Got it." He looked up at where Mirage beginning to set up. "Can we watch?"

"So long as you can guard my back while you're doing so," Mirage shrugged before settling on his front and setting the heavy sniper riffle to his shoulder, two short flip-down legs supporting the long muzzle about halfway down the length.

The pair watched as he took several kliks to settle, calm and center himself.

~Snipers are creepy.~ Sunstreaker muttered, half his attention on Mirage, half on the surroundings. ~No way he makes it. Not even that gun is good at this range.~

~Betcha he gets close, though,~ Sideswipe sat as he tried to find the target that Mirage was focusing in on. ~He's obsessive about that gun.~

~Wish he'd be obsessive about something else big and hard that can shoot,~ Sunstreaker smirked.

~Not going to happen. Not when he needs Jazz's permission and courting to bond to spread his legs,~ Sideswipe muttered. ~You ever heard of such a thing?~

Sunstreaker snorted. ~Noble slag. They're so weird, good thing we got out early or we mighta ended up like _him._ ~

Sideswipe spent a moment not actually sure which he would have preferred when he felt Mirage's field go completely cool and still. ~I think he's going for it.~

There was a heavy snap-crack of a physical projectile being sent downrange at several times the speed of sound. There was an actual delay, a distinctly noticeable one, while the heavy round flew towards its moving target.

It was so far outside expectations when the Seeker dropped that the twins didn't register it until Mirage was already moving and speaking to them. 

"Go!" the noble hissed sharply before going invisible.

~Scrap me did you fragging _see_ that?~ Sideswipe gasped as they scrambled down the hill. ~He made that shot!~

~I saw. I saw,~ Sunstreaker muttered, still in shock from it. ~Made it and that was no lucky shot. He's _awesome_.~

~Primus, he's _amazing,_ ~ Sideswipe said, and then when the roar of jet engines began to creep over them from the sky they ducked for cover. Sideswipe held his hand out, searching for Mirage and not finding him. 

~He could be hiding in plain sight, you realize that,~ Sunstreaker said, swatting his twin. 

~Yeah but...~ Sideswipe said. 

~You're sweet on him,~ Sunstreaker taunted his brother, conveniently ignoring the fact that he was too.

~Am not!~ Sideswipe gasped as he pulled completely under cover to wait out the fly-over. ~Prissy little ... gorgeous, kick-aft, sharpshooter ... Ah, frag me,~ he groaned. 

~Once we're clear.~ Sunstreaker snickered across the bond. ~Could be worse.~

~Could be _worse?_ ~ Sideswipe demanded, punching his twin's shoulder and glaring at him. ~Could be worse than needing _Jazz's_ permission to touch him? Jazz's permission for his favorite agent? Not to mention, _courting?_ Are you ready for courting? Because I am _not_ ready for courting.~

~Never said it was good, just that it could be worse,~ Sunstreaker shrugged. ~He could be a Con.~

~Point,~ Sideswipe said as they peered out before taking off again. ~And--oh, then we'd have to deal with Prowl. Yeah, it could be worse.~

* * *

They finally made it back to the base that had been set up as their recovery point--a relatively small outpost, but with enough mecha there to warrant several bunkers and a rec area--and they still hadn't seen or heard from Mirage. The base's commanding officer was on duty when they arrived and got through clearance, and Sideswipe found him quickly. 

"Our partner, Mirage, did he make it back? We haven't seen him yet," Sideswipe said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

"Oh, yeah, little yellow opticked thing?" the commander nodded, and jerked his head down the hallway. "He got here last night. Hangs around in the rec room." 

"Check, thanks," Sideswipe grinned at the mech as they headed off that way.

~Not surprised he doesn't want to be in the barracks,~ Sunstreaker said. ~Probably hasn't recharged yet.~

Sideswipe cringed a little. ~Wish I could say he's just being paranoid, but...~ They knew full well that just wearing the Autobots' symbol didn't make mecha any more honorable than they had been before, and the army had picked up its fair share of starving gangmecha. Both sides had. ~Is offering to stand guard too much, d'ya think?~

Because no one should have to go into recharge wondering if they'd boot to an overcharged, groping assaulter. The twins knew that too well. 

~If we phrase it right, he might not be insulted....~ Sunstreaker suggested hesitantly. ~I don't know, maybe 'ready to recharge with us' and be real exact with the harmonics and all?~

Sideswipe mused that over for a bit. ~...Yeah, that might work.~ They got to the rec room, or what passed as it, and quickly spotted Mirage sitting by himself, back to a corner, and made their way over.

"So we were just there to be a get-away diversion, weren't we," Sideswipe said, not bothering to ask and pretending he didn't notice Mirage's startled look when they sat down with him. "Come on, you can be honest, we can take it."

"If I fired, yes. He did actually insist that I be _guarded_ this time," Mirage huffed. "What _is_ between you and Jazz?"

"What, that that slag sucker would offer us up as bait?" Sunstreaker grinned, and shook his head. "Couple bad brawls and I kicked his aft each time."

Mirage considered him, them simply hummed a light acceptance of the statement.

"So ... We were going to recharge. Ready to get some yourself?" Sideswipe asked cautiously, trying to be careful with his harmonics and glyphs.

Mirage studied them both for a long, hard moment, then nodded. "I believe so."

~Worked!~ Sunstreaker crowed as they all stood up together and headed towards the public barracks. All three of them got more than a few looks on the way, just for being unfamiliar faces. The twins casually flanked their companion, close enough to serve as a warning while still making it seem unintended, and Mirage didn't say a word when they found a set of three bunks, pushed them together and one twin lay down on either side of him. They weren't quite touching, but it was close.

Despite the impropriety, it allowed Mirage to finish several small defrag cycles with only booting halfway up in between as the big frontliners and their obvious positions made it clear it was a bad idea to approach Mirage. The past few orns had proven the twins' trustworthiness to guard him, and he had to admit, it was nice to have a reasonably friendly field so close. It felt ... safe. 

It was pleasant, so very pleasant, that Mirage was reluctant to rouse when his internal alarm went off because the twins hadn't booted yet. There was no real reason to get up yet. Rations wouldn't be distributed for another three joors and the shuttle they'd take back to Iacon wouldn't be here for two more orns. So instead of getting up to begin another empty orn full of mecha not used to a noble's presence, he came fully online and stayed there on the berth between the twins, just enjoying the unique strangeness of being able to let his guard down for a little while. The twins were certainly committed to their assignment, he'd give them that. He'd been expecting them to get as far away from him as possible once the mission was officially over; he was aware that he wasn't the most friendly of creatures even on a good day. But they'd actually talked, which was a surprise, and despite their vastly different backgrounds they had at least a few things in common.

Oh, he knew that they'd be back to Iacon soon and the twins would return to the Prime's Guard and tell everyone about the strange noble they'd been assigned to guard, he would disappear back into Ops, and the chances of their different worlds interacting was almost nothing. He rarely ventured out of Ops unless on assignment and few were allowed to venture in. For now, though, being able to just relax a bit was a small miracle.

* * *

Their paths crossed with Mirage's more than they would have expected, to the point where the twins almost wondered between themselves if the spy was helping it happen. Not actively, necessarily, but he showed more often at racing events and didn't make himself too hard to find or approach. They'd had another guard mission with him a few vorns after the first when Mirage had to go undercover, fittingly, as a Kaon noble with his own personal guard. Standing around silently looking intimidating had been simple enough, at least. 

And after all of it, and growing tension that both parties knew existed but that neither would talk about, he was still unavailable except by courting. And that was starting to seem less and less daunting as time went on. 

But still daunting enough that they'd waved it off as an encounter that was unfortunately never to happen, and put it, for the most part, out of their minds. They still had each other. 

They shared quarters with the other mecha who served on the Prime's Guard, a common room with somewhat private berthrooms separated by curtains, and for once, they had it to themselves. Not that it tended to stop them when they didn't. Sideswipe moved over his twin, panting and gripping, face pressed to Sunstreaker's neck as they groaned in unison. 

"Ha... ha... close," Sideswipe managed, and when his optics shuttered, he was imagining Mirage beneath him, around him, writhing and moaning in his arms. 

"Good, want it, give..." Sunstreaker gasped in reply, his own imagination a mixture of Mirage between them and Mirage on top of him, driving into him.

"A-- _ah--!_ " their cries mingled into a unified cry of bliss, their frames stiffening from the cascade of energy surging relentlessly through them as Sideswipe pumped burst after burst of crackling, thick transfluid deep into his brother.

It was ... intense. The shaking was harder, longer, images of the noble vivid as they clutched each other and rode the waves out before collapsing back down, a little stunned. 

"...Scrap," Sideswipe said.

"We're so fragged," Sunstreaker agreed with a groan. ~Who'd even know how to start?~

~Prowl,~ Sideswipe said firmly, carefully laying his head on his twin's chest. ~Prowl would know.~

~Yeah, Prowl would know. Or know how to find out. He could get away with asking that kind of thing.~ Sunstreaker agreed as he held his twin and they slowly cooled off. ~He's technically off duty in half a joor. Drop in on him just at shift end?~

Sideswipe nodded. ~We're ... actually going to look into this?~ he said, almost needing to hear it to believe it. 

~Just questions,~ Sunstreaker said. ~Just to know. No harm in that.~

~Right, no harm in that,~ Sideswipe agreed quickly, and they gave a resigned sigh together. 

Half a joor later and cleaned up better than they needed to be, they were peeking hesitantly around the corner into their sire's office, and Sideswipe cleared his vocalizer out.

"Come in," Prowl called out, his harmonics the usual flat tone that indicated his tac-net was running at full capability.

The twins glanced at each other and did so, coming to linger in front of his desk. "We ... had a question, if you aren't busy," Sideswipe said. 

Prowl simply looked at them, waiting. 

"Right, then." The red twin shifted on his pedes. "We were wondering--" 

"--Hypothetically," Sunstreaker added. 

"--Hypothetically, right," Sideswipe said, nodding, "If one were to want to go about courting a noble, how would one do that?"

"Hypothetically." Prowl repeated the word, turning it over in his processors several times as the tac-net backed off, recognizing this with Prowl as a question that was more in the mech's realm than the AI's. "The first thing to determine is the rank of the other mecha. Courting works very differently between relative equals than it does between a first and second creation. Then you need to determine what kind of arrangement you desire. Courting for a political bond differs from that for a lover or for a love-bond. Do you know any of those answers?"

They glanced at each other. ~Second creation, right?~

~Right.~

"Second creation," Sideswipe said. "And..." He looked back at his twin. ~I don't know, lover?~

~Didn't he said he was only available to court to bond?~

~Frag. He did.~ Sideswipe frowned. "Lover, or love-bond, I guess ... What does it mean, only being available to court to bond? It'd have to be courting for a love-bond?"

"Or a political bond, yes," Prowl nodded and a flash passed across his optics. "Mirage is a very proper second creation, even now. You will need to court for a love-bond, and Jazz will not let him go easily. Do not expect to bond before the war is over. You are unlikely to interface with him before that, either, at least in the context that you would think of it."

The twins' armor gave a startled, simultaneous twitch. "Who said Mirage? We didn't say Mirage," Sideswipe said, but it was a badly executed lie, even for him, and Sunstreaker just rolled his optics at his twin. 

"Fine, but what do we _do?_ " the yellow twin asked. "It's like we see him everywhere." 

"Literally," Sideswipe muttered ruefully. 

"You said a noble second creation. There is exactly one of those you've come into contact with. The other noble on base, excepting your carrier, is a first creation," Prowl informed them. "The first step is to ask permission of his creator or House Lord. In this case, Jazz."

"...Exactly how important is that step?" Sideswipe asked.

Prowl gave them a look that warned of dire consequences. "Very important. Not only is it an insult to Mirage to ignore getting permission, it will make Jazz _furious_ if you try to steal his prize agent, SIC in-training, and probable replacement from him."

"So we ask Jazz," Sunstreaker said. "Seems simple enough. What else?"

"Comm ahead for it to be a proper meeting," Prowl instructed firmly. "This is a formal event of great importance even if it is only a few words exchanged in his office after work. Mirage will be there. Be clear what kind of bond you are seeking. If he agrees he will make it reasonably easy for you to spend time with Mirage to court and woo him. There will be an escort until you have proven you are honorable and will not take advantage of him. A formality in this case, but a very important one for Mirage to feel valued by his House Lord."

"And after that we..." Sunstreaker said, looking a little overwhelmed with just _that_ much. They were used to something more like, "Hey, wanna frag?"

But Mirage was worth it. They hoped Mirage was worth it. That assurance pulsed over the bond between them. They'd thought about Mirage, wanted Mirage, more and for longer than they'd wanted almost anything short of their freedom.

"Will spend vorns going out with him to public places. Having energon with him. Getting to know him and allowing him to know you. Giving him gifts. You will _court_ him as best you are able." Prowl paused and considered the pair. "It would help to try to make friends with Jazz as well. I know there are hurts that may never heal, but it would be good to try. You are asking for Jazz's creation. That you are his creations is not so relevant. You are the ones making the approach, what will be the dominant mecha in the bond. You may have noticed, or not, but Jazz is savagely protective of any he lets close to him. I would very much like to see you both join that small number."

The twins grimaced a little, glancing at each other. 

"...We'll see," Sideswipe finally said. "So it comes down to survive Jazz..."

"...Refuel with him in public..." 

"...Get him things--what kinds of things?" 

"Pretty things," Sunstreaker shrugged. "And be nice to him." He looked at his twin. "Sounds easy enough, right?" 

"Right," Sideswipe said, and grinned expectantly at Prowl.

"The gifts that will make the best impression on Mirage fall into two categories," Prowl offered the pair a small smile. "Things that show you understand culture, even if it is not much a part of your lives now, and things that show you have been paying attention to small details of his desires and preferences. He will not be obvious about it. As a second creation his function included being a background element until his bonded wished to show him off, then he was to dazzle all." He leaned back and watched them mull that over. "I will be here to answer questions in the future as you need it."

"Oh please," Sideswipe said. "We've got this, Prowl." 

"Oh and, could you not tell Jazz?" Sunstreaker asked. "Just, let us do that?"

"Unless he asks me directly about our meeting, I will leave this to you," Prowl inclined his helm. "I wish you luck."

"Thanks!" Sideswipe said, offered a casual, mock salute, and left with his twin.

* * *

A full orn after arranging the meeting with Jazz and the twins were becoming frustrated. The one time they really needed to find Mirage and he wasn't to be found in any of the spots they usually crossed paths.

~What do we do? We _have_ to talk to him before he finds out in the meeting.~ Sunstreaker's frustration boiled over into shutting down much of his upper processor functions.

~You know, we _could_ comm him,~ Sideswipe said, rolling his optics at his twin from where they were sitting in the mostly deserted viewing area for the race track. He had his pedes up on the seat in front of him and was absently watching the few racers down on the track practicing. ~Primus you get ridiculous under stress.~

~It's not like _you_ thought of it very fast.~ Sunstreaker huffed back. ~And you never complain when it's a fight and it helps me move faster.~

~Yeah, well, never commed him before,~ Sideswipe grumbled, loading the frequency that neither of them had ever attempted to call before. ~And it's a _good_ thing in a fight. Right now it just means I can't make you do it because you thought of it.~

~It's your job anyway. You're the oldest.~ Sunstreaker finally had a reason to find that tidbit amusing.

~Oh _frag_ you Mister-I-Should-Have-Been-First,~ Sideswipe said as he pinged a connection request on Mirage's frequency. There was an unusually long delay, but just before Sideswipe was ready to give up the ping came back as accepted.

::What do you want?:: Mirage's smooth, haughty tones rolled across Sideswipe's internal receiver.

::Missed you too,:: Sideswipe said dryly while suppressing the odd thrill in his spark that the voice created. Primus help him. ::You're usually around these orns and the track is missing that particular condescending aloofness that we've gotten so used to. It's so ordinary and pedestrian around here. And boring.::

::So you are looking for a mech who can leave you in his dust?:: Mirage might have been laughing in good humor. Maybe. It was hard to tell at times. ::I believe I can spare a few joors to remind you what my taillights look like.::

::Spare me,:: Sideswipe said, grinning like an idiot. ::You know it doesn't count if we're looking at them from a lap ahead.::

::As if you have ever managed that,:: Mirage's haughty laugh sent a small charge racing through Sideswipe's frame, enough to catch his brother's attention. Sideswipe tried to quell it and just got a knowing smirk. A few breems later, that same voice came up behind them, making both twins start and turn to see Mirage appearing there, looking smugly down at them. "Well, are we going to race or watch others loop the track?"

Sideswipe's engine gave a funny turn-over. ~...I'm gonna chicken out if we don't talk to him before we race,~ he said.

~Then say it.~ Sunstreaker's side of the bond was positively buzzing with nervous anticipation. ~We _can't_ not ask him first.~

~ _Me?_ ~ Sideswipe protested futilely even as he stood up and stretched, giving Mirage an easy, relaxed grin. "Can we talk, first?" He jerked his head towards the side of the galley. "Less exposed than this."

Sunstreaker twitched and ruffled his armor to resettle it, earning a sharp look from Mirage as they walked. Despite his normally impatient attitude with them, Mirage allowed them time to get whatever they intended to say out.

"Okay, here's the thing," Sideswipe said once they were in a removed area of the stands, just a leftover corner that hadn't been useful to the design but necessary to the structure that gave a secluded alcove. Sunstreaker pulsed his support across the bond, his steady reassurance, and it gave Sideswipe the courage to step in close to Mirage and lift his hand, following the same, _almost_ stroke along his helm that he'd done their first guard assignment. "We like you. We like you enough that ... we're willing to go through this whole thing, the courting thing, to see if..." He trailed off, looking into the spy's wide, yellow optics. 

"If maybe, you might like us too," Sunstreaker said, and stepped in behind, hands ghosting over the curves of Mirage's frame without touching him. 

"And so we have an audience, with Jazz, to ask for permission to, er, court you, for a love-bond. But only if you want to," Sideswipe added quickly. "If you don't it's okay and we'll back off and you don't even have to pretend like you know us. We just thought..." 

"...Maybe if we feel this..." Sunstreaker murmured behind him. 

"...You might too," Sideswipe finished, spark pulsing painfully in his chest.

Mirage's field gave a sharp flare that had settled by the time they'd finished talking. Shock, desire, disbelief were all there, but it was the fear that caught the twin's attention. In all their time together, Mirage had never teeked of fear. Not even when things weren't going well.

It had an immediate almost panic effect on Sunstreaker, as uneasy as normal social interaction made him when going well, something this important potentially going badly was enough to make him move immediately away in several long paces. 

Sideswipe looked at his twin, then back at Mirage, uncertain, and then decided that backing away seemed like a safe course no matter what Mirage was thinking. "Sorry," he blurted. "Did we--is there some--did we screw up already? Frag I'm so sorry, Mirage."

"No," the spy answered quickly. "I never .... I apologize. I never anticipated that anyone other than another noble, a first creation, might even think to try for me. Jazz made it very clear the last time that he is not going to give me up easily. It is a shock. I ... like you both. I do not believe he will allow it."

That got both twins immediately and raptly focused. "Why?" Sunstreaker growled, aggression in the subglyphs that was directed at several sources, none of them Mirage. Simmering anger quickly chased away the mild panic, and Sideswipe frowned, cocking his head at Mirage. 

"If there's some problem, we'll fix it," he said. "We'll learn all the little rules and things, we can wait long enough to do it all right and proper and stuff." 

Mirage looked between the pair and decided to explain as best he was able. "How much do you know about noble society in relation to bonded mates?"

Sideswipe carefully stepped back in when they decided that the noble definitely wasn't upset with them. "There can be courting for political bonds, love bonds, and to be lovers," Sideswipe said, almost proudly, remembering what Prowl had said. 

"But also contracts," Sunstreaker cut in sharply. "Creations can be sold into bondage, too."

"It is all true," Mirage inclined his helm as his field reached out hesitantly for Sideswipe. "The primary factor here is that I was an untouched second creation when I came to Jazz. Without a House or bonded to look to, he became my Lord, the leader of my House. The one with the right to decide my fate. Once my coding decided that he was my Lord, I adapted to suit him and what he needed of me. However, once I bond, that same code will focus on my new bonded, my new Lord, and Jazz will loose control of it. He will not give me up easily."

"Yeah but ... we're just asking to court, right?" Sideswipe asked as his field brushed back, and when just that touch made him shiver. "There's not even a guarantee of a bond at the end, and besides, that's a _huge_ step." 

Sunstreaker snorted in agreement. "We're not looking to rush into that either. But..." He hesitated, glanced up at his twin, silently asking him to explain what he was feeling, pulsing through the bond. 

Sideswipe smiled slightly. "Look, we're not good at this slag," he said. "Obviously. Just, if the only way we're allowed to touch you is to court you..." He leaned in, mouth _almost_ against Mirage's as he whispered. "...Then it's worth it. What harm could Jazz find in that?" 

Mirage's vents caught at the almost-touch and brush of air across his sensitive plating, _want_ flaring in him. "But in the end, you want more than to just _touch_?"

"Dunno about the end," Sideswipe murmured. 

"Just what we want now," Sideswipe said, behind the smaller noble again. "And we know that we aren't allowed to have all we want." 

"But _anything_ would be better than nothing." 

"Please, Mirage, say we can at least try," Sunstreaker whispered longingly.

"Yes," Mirage shivered at the tone and intensity of desire in their fields as they mingled with his own. It was nearly enough to draw a groan of frustrated want from him. "Yes, ask Jazz for me."

The elated thrills that went through their fields did nothing to dampen the twins' own _want_ that pushed in heavily around the noble, pressing him from both sides, desire that had been pent up for so long coming free. 

"In three orns," Sideswipe said, not moving. 

"...Is this okay, what we're doing?" Sunstreaker asked. 

Mirage groaned, his field flaring hot and bright between them as he pushed back. Slender fingers reached out to grip the top edge of Sunstreaker's chest plates. "So long as you know how to finish."

They took that touch as permission and stepped in flush on either side of him, fields twining and wrapping together. "We know," Sideswipe whispered, hiding how uncertain he actually was of that fact, just barely managing to suppress his shivers and nervousness from what they were doing. 

Frames came closer, touched, _pressed_ and Sideswipe brushed lip plates together while Sunstreaker settled his hands on Mirage's waist. The lithe noble moaned and shuddered between them, flaring his field out, caressing circuitry and even their spark chambers.

With a groan of his own Sunstreaker pressed his mouth to Mirage's claiming a chaste but heated kiss that only broke when the noble whimpered and tried to pull back. Their armor was panting lightly, flaring and contracting to force additional air movement. Mirage's field moved with their armor, his optics lightly glazed and bright with arousal.

"We ... we shouldn't..." Mirage tried, trembling as coding snarled to life inside him, angry and demanding that he behave. "Should ... a first creation. I'm broken. I shouldn't feel this. Only for a first creation."

The twins glanced at each other, optics that were dark with lust but that suddenly understood something. 

"...Our carrier is a second creation noble," Sunstreaker said. "Well, was."

"And we were his first carry," Sideswipe added as he drew back enough to let Mirage be able to understand what they were telling him. "Sparked by his contract bonded." 

"Kind of counts?" Sunstreaker said, hopefully.

Yellow optics flashed in shock, but Mirage's field fluttered with hope. "Yes," he managed not to moan. "Who emerged first?" he glanced between them, rapidly reviewing what he knew and making an educated guess as he looked at Sideswipe.

"Me," Sideswipe confirmed with a nod. "And um..." He reached out to his twin as they shared a question over the bond. 

~Do we tell him?~ Sunstreaker asked uncertainly. 

~He'll find out eventually and it'll probably be worse if it isn't us and now,~ Sideswipe sighed. "Actually, Mirage..." He curled his finger under the noble's chin, tilting his face up and relishing the flicker of pleasure he felt for the contact. "Our carrier was Jazz."

Two facts warred for Mirage's attention in the next instant. Who, and the past tense. He settled on asking about the tense to give himself more time to think about the who.

"Was?"

"He mighta carried us, sure, built our protoforms," Sideswipe said with a shrug. 

"But that's _all_ the carrier he ever was," Sunstreaker said, his voice laced with a growl. "He was _never_ a creator to us."

Mirage processed that, snug between the larger, heavier frames. "What happened?" He asked softly. So many possibilities swarmed through his processor that he wanted to know the correct one.

"...In brief?" Sideswipe said, cringing a little. "Dunno if he's told you about Vortex? But he had to have this blocker put on which blocked the carrier bond too and then he glitch hallucinated us as Vortex and tried to kill us, so Prowl sent us away. Aaand he probably doesn't want us telling you all that." 

Sunstreaker snorted, dipping down to nuzzle against Mirage's neck. "Yeah, and?" he said. "Who cares what he wants?" 

" _We_ do," Sideswipe hissed at his twin, then forced himself to settle. "We have to, now."

"I will not repeat what you've just said," Mirage promised softly. "That is why you look nothing like your creators, then?"

"They think we mighta picked up the frame traits from their Simfur builds," Sideswipe said. "Most of the protoform development was from those. They didn't move to Praxus until after we emerged." 

"And Vortex was just spark, they left before he could contribute," Sunstreaker said. "Unfortunately for my ground-bound twin."

Mirage opened his mouth to object to the idea that superficial frame design and protoform design had much in common, then thought better of it. "So you are first creation nobles by spark line." He couldn't quite help the giddy pleasure at that. "It does explain the attraction we have."

"Sure, I guess?" Sunstreaker said, engines rumbling contently, mostly just focused on how good Mirage's armor felt, clean and smooth and polished. 

"If you say so," Sideswipe agreed. "Is that why Jazz said no to the last mecha that asked?"

"Mmm, no, he was a first creation," Mirage hummed with pleasure. "I am not sure why he was turned away, though I am glad he was. I do not like him."

"Good," Sunstreaker said firmly, and there was a possessive tone to his voice. 

Sideswipe soothed his twin over the bond as best he could. "So it's more than us just being first creations," he said, and couldn't stop his huge grin and the incredibly proud flush that came to his field. "You liking us."

"You respect me, respected my limits even when they made no sense to you and went against your own desires," Mirage murmured, content between them. "It will help with Jazz, he does want his agents happy, at least when it is possible. I am glad he is only my adopted Lord and creator, or this would be very odd."

"Heh. A little," Sideswipe agreed, nuzzling the noble's helm. "Helps that we don't think of him as a creator. That's Prowl if it's anyone."

"Only a little?" Mirage quirked an optic ridge at him.

"Maybe a lot?" Sideswipe shrugged. "Dunno, we've got a strange family. Sunny 'n me are only the half of it."

"So I am gathering." A touch of humor danced across Mirage's field. "Have you ever shared before?"

"Sometimes," Sideswipe answered, and his twin rumbled in pleasure from the memories. "Mostly 's just us."

"Just ... us?" Mirage repeated, uncertain at asking but needing to know. "You are mates?"

Sideswipe suddenly teeked very uncomfortable and Sunstreaker growled. Mirage cringed at their displeasure.

"No one ever..." Sideswipe said, looking firmly to the side. "We didn't know we weren't supposed to, and ... we've always had the spark bond, it seemed like what we were supposed to be. Sunny, he's..." He looked at his twin. "He's Sunny. He's mine. I'm his." 

"Other twins that we met were the same," Sunstreaker said.

Mirage simply nodded, acceptance weaving outwards along his field. "It only matters so I may know what to expect if Jazz agrees." His voice soothed them. "Legally we are all brothers and I hope you may court me."

"Hope so too," Sideswipe said, and arousal licked back around the edges of his field. 

"Who was the other?" Sunstreaker asked suddenly. "The first one that asked for you. Why didn't you like him?"

"Tracks. He wanted a trophy mate and thought that because my House Lord was not related by spark that I would be easy to acquire." A mischievous smile crossed Mirage's features. "Jazz showed him otherwise. I may not be related by spark, but I am _his_ far more than even my creators cared for me."

Something bitter went through the twins' fields that was quickly pushed aside. 

"Tracks can suck slag," Sunstreaker said, smirking. "Slagger's worse than I am." 

"Just because he called you dingy," Sideswipe said, rolling his optics before they focused back in on Mirage. "We'll get through Jazz." A nervous thrill, as if he had suddenly remembered where his hands were when he looked down at the smaller mech between them. "Um ... Prowl said there would have to be an escort?"

"Yes, likely another spy." Mirage nodded. "They are to ensure you behave well towards me. It will be a good sign when Jazz calls them off and allows us to meet unescorted." He leaned in close to Sideswipe and lowered his voice. "That is when you may ask for a contract," he purred. "With the contract signed, my seals are yours to break."

"S-seals?" Sideswipe almost stuttered. 

~ _Untouched,_ moron,~ Sunstreaker said, currently the calmer of the two, basking in being able to touch and stroke the loosened plating beneath his fingers. 

~I thought that meant like unbonded!~ Sideswipe snapped. ~Who even has seals anymore?~

~The mech we want.~ Sunstreaker replied evenly and kissed Mirage's neck.

"Yes, Jazz respected my desire to remain untouched for my training," Mirage purred, openly proud that he was still a proper second creation. "Only my Intended has a right to use me that way."

"Right, yeah," Sideswipe said, staring and trying to force himself to settle. He didn't know how to break seals properly, and there had to be a better way because their way had hurt like slag and the idea of doing that to Mirage was horrifying. Sunstreaker reached across the bond and caught him before he could go into a downward panic spiral. "Guess that's a while from now, though. Can we still..." His fingers moved in tandem with his twin's, stroking and caressing. "'Cause Jazz got in slagging tons of trouble just for kissing Prowl, should we stop?"

"I ... should not have allowed you to touch at all," Mirage admitted. "But I want ... I know how to pleasure without interfacing."

Sideswipe's engine revved up in pitch but he managed to throttle himself back somehow. "...After Jazz gives permission, with the escort, will that still be okay then?"

"Not at first," Mirage murmured, pressing against the powerful red frame. "Not until the sixth date, at the earliest."

Sunstreaker made a noise that was almost a whine. Now that they'd stopped fighting it and given in, the idea of letting go was almost painful. "No one's escorting now," he said quietly.

Mirage flared his field into them, hot and seductive. "Just hold on and allow me."

It made the twins shake and clutch him. What Mirage had done in just a moment was lightyears beyond the kind of field work they'd been doing earlier, just pressing their arousal and desire into him. It was ... not like anything they'd ever felt. 

"How..." Sideswipe whispered, optics wide.

"I was well-educated before the Towers fell," Mirage said as if it explained everything. His field swirled around them, through them, caressing circuits and their spark casings until they both were trembling with the charge. "There are many ways to pleasure another without breaking seals."

"Um--good," Sideswipe managed, as Sunstreaker experimentally pulsed his field in return, feeling and mimicking what the noble was doing, trying clumsily to return it. At the very least, he could press back how much he _wanted_ this mech, this talented, polished, confident mech. 

Sideswipe leaned in and took Mirage's mouth in a sudden kiss, deep and wanting and moaning against him. As Mirage returned it, expressing his intense desire by breaking the rules he'd existed by for so long, he delved his field deep, thrumming against their spark chambers in time to their sparks and focusing energy in the interface arrays between their legs.

Covers slid away, automatically and with no way to stop them, the twins having never learned the kind of self-control that Mirage was still displaying. Sideswipe delved with his glossa, dancing with Mirage's, and his spark soared in his chest, trembling and hot and the bond was _alive_ with excitement and risk. 

Sunstreaker leaned around and turned Mirage towards him, breaking off the kiss he'd been sharing with his twin and taking his own. Mirage returned it just as ardently as he had with Sideswipe, a reminder that it wasn't just one twin he wanted.

The pulse and intensity of Mirage's field pushed and caressed, stroking their charge and poured energy directly into it. The noble moaned softly at the feedback, holding his frame still and focused on his field and what he had long ago given up on ever using to fuel their pleasure.

It took almost no time at all for the twins to peak and then crest into a shuddering field overload as they gripped each other and the smaller mech between them, their fields spasming with _new-finally-bliss-joy-yes!_ as they shouted together.

Mirage continued to work their fields as they came down, softening the descent for them and holding still only through willpower. It was distinctly uncomfortable now that they'd overloaded and the twins easily teeked as much.

"You didn't..." Sideswipe finally managed, and with effort, closed the panels that had opened while Sunstreaker did the same, purring against the spy.

"It is not yet time for that," Mirage said with surprising ease. "I should not have let any of this happen." He tried a very light push against the much heavier frame of Sideswipe. "We should not touch until it is time."

Sideswipe sighed and rested their helms together for just another moment before backing away out of touching range, but stubbornly not leaving teeking range. "The meeting with Jazz is three orns from now, he said he'd make sure you were there. Not sure what he thinks it's about, we didn't mention that part." 

"We kind of want to live at least three more orns," Sunstreaker said, rolling his optics and slinging an arm onto his twins shoulder as he came around to face Mirage.

"He didn't deactivate Tracks, he won't deactivate you," Mirage told them, once more completely his proper self with no hint of the charge racing through his systems. "I look forward to his approval, if it can be arranged," he lifted his helm slightly. "Are you still inclined to race?"

" _Are_ we," Sideswipe said, grinning. "With the temptation of getting to look at your taillights on offer?" He looked at his twin, who smirked back at him, and jerked his head towards the lift. "C'mon, let's go make sure this prissy little race model doesn't scrap our afts, at least."


	2. Courting

Mirage was restless. He'd managed little quality recharge, his field wanting to be surrounded by the two strong, protective ones he'd been with on his first mission with them. Normally he could ignore it. It had been vorns since they'd been that close to him until three orns before when he'd overloaded them by field manipulation. Of course, he still wasn't sure how he felt about _that_ , either. On one hand he knew he wanted them, they wanted him and he'd kept his interface covers closed. He hadn't touched their spikes or valves in any way. On the other, he had overloaded them, and he'd wanted to do so much more so very badly.

He _wanted_.

Just that was enough to send his coding and processors into jagged loops that did not end well. He shouldn't want, not like this. He couldn't help but worry at Jazz's reaction when he found out. He was positive Jazz wouldn't deactivate his own creations over it, Mirage knew he wasn't compromised, but he could still make them disappear as far as Mirage was concerned. There were plenty of places that needed good frontliners.

When his alarm went off he reluctantly got up and began his morning routine of checking messages and skimming new intel while he cleaned, polished and performed minor maintenance on his frame. Today he needed to look especially perfect. In a joor he was to stand by his Lord's side while the mecha he desired so much asked for permission to court him.

He was there precisely on time, exactly when the twins arrived, as well. Sideswipe had polished and shined and it looked like he'd even done touch-up work on his armor. Sunstreaker looked, if possible, more perfect than he usually did, and Mirage finally realized once he was close enough to see clearly that he'd used a different grade of polish. 

They offered him tight, stressed smiles and flickered their fields in greeting. Mirage nodded back, doing a better job than they were of hiding his stress, and gestured to the agent that had escorted them here that he would take over for the time being. 

A ping and the door opened, Jazz gesturing them in and looking up from his datapad. He paused when he saw them, fixing on Mirage and Sideswipe's appearances, and frowned. "You said you needed to talk to me about Mirage," he said as his agent came to stand next to him while the twins sat across from the desk.

Sideswipe nodded once, glanced at his twin and took the offered support, then faced his carrier directly. "We want to court Mirage for a love-bond, and we're here for your permission."

Jazz's visor cycled once, then again, and his engine snarled as pure darkness closed in on his features. "That is _not_ funny."

Mirage did an alarmed, bright-opticked double take at his commander before looking back to the twins, who didn't seem fazed, and tried to stay calm. 

"It _isn't_ a joke," Sunstreaker growled, before a light touch on his leg from Sideswipe settled him enough to quiet his engine. 

Sideswipe shrugged carelessly once he faced Jazz again. "It isn't, though," he said.

"You wish to court and bond with your brother." Jazz said it outright, staring at them. "That is not normal."

Sunstreaker's optics glittered oddly. "Blame our genetics for the inclination," he said, then, "Hey!" when Sideswipe grabbed one of his helm fins and yanked. 

"Brother-in-law," Sideswipe corrected, glaring at his twin. "We weren't raised together and we can create with him, any relation is by technicality and only by name, not spark."

Jazz twitched, slightly mollified by the truth and annoyed by it all the same. Ancient coding, social training that had been drilled into him for vorns as a youth rose all but unbidden to shape his response to a formal request. "Why should I give my youngest to you?"

Sideswipe x-vented carefully. This was the part he was less certain of. He was better at stating a desire and punching his way to it than talking. "We've proven our willingness and ability to take care of him again and again," he recited. "We want him to be safe and happy, and we--well, we like him. A lot," he added, a little uncertain if that was going to be helpful or not.

"You are barely nobility, a claim only by spark," Jazz pushed down his regret at doing this to the mecha he'd given life and frame to. "You were not even raised as _people_. How can you support a noble when you are only grunts and aspire to nothing better?"

::He's baiting you.:: Mirage commed them quickly.

Sideswipe hesitated. "We are Prime's Guard," he finally said, and found footing there. "Entrusted to watch over the leader of the Autobots. Our upbringing shaped much of who we are, made us capable of protecting what we care for, and..." He floundered for a few moments. 

~Until now we had nothing to aspire to,~ Sunstreaker offered. ~You know the Pit we crawled out of and how far we've come, we're not done yet.~

Sideswipe sent a grateful feeling back and repeated it out loud.

Jazz regarded them steadily, trying to suppress his pride in the answer and how they were handling it with limited success. "So what do you aspire to now?"

"Making sure all three of us survive the war," Sideswipe said honestly. "Ending it as soon as possible." 

"And after?" Jazz asked. 

"Earning a contract with your youngest. Seeing what kind of world is left and trying to succeed in it."

Jazz gave a hum of acceptance with a sub-harmonic, badly suppressed, of his pride in them. "You understand that success means that you will lead a House one orn. My House."

"Right, sure," Sideswipe said, ready to agree to just about whatever Jazz wanted at the moment, while Sunstreaker gave his carrier a somewhat panicked look.

"Your House?" he asked.

"Mirage has been my heir-select," Jazz told them. "The mech entrusted with the future of my House and estate when I have deactivated. Since you are first creations and will bond to him as such, the responsibility will fall to Sideswipe as the dominant mate, and Sunstreaker by extension. I will not accept a contract unless I believe the mech is suitable to inherit my title and estate."

::I'll help you,:: Mirage commed quickly. ::It sounds scarier than it is.::

"Mirage," Jazz chastised lightly, not looking at him. "They don't need help." Mirage winced slightly. 

"We'll figure it out," Sideswipe said quickly. 

"...Does that mean yes, for the courting part?" Sunstreaker asked. 

Jazz considered them for a long, tense klik before focusing on Mirage. "Is this what you want?"

" _Yes,_ " Mirage said immediately, subharmonics ringing with formality and desire and craving. _Pleasure-bliss_ slipped in before he could stop it, notes that sung to physical pleasure and all that he wanted from them, with them, for them, everything he'd kept hidden before he'd realized what they were. 

It earned him a sharper look, but Jazz said nothing. He turned his attention back to the twins. "You may court him. You will not attempt to ditch his chaperone. You will not touch him with desire. Break the rules and I will break you both."

Despite the fearsome words, the harmonics didn't quite back it up. Oh, there was no doubt that Jazz was serious about there being consequences, but not that serious.

Sunstreaker's field rippled in protest--how was one supposed to court or whatever it was without _touching_ \--but Sideswipe's hold on him held anything spoken back. 

"Thank you," Sideswipe said, and couldn't quite keep his grin down when he looked at Mirage. 

"Until you are told otherwise, you will arrange all meetings through me," Jazz was very serious now.

Sideswipe deflated a little. "What if we're both in the same public place?"

"Mirage will tell me when he's leaving this domain and you do not come here without escort," Jazz told them. "You will not cross paths without someone to chaperone."

~That's less freedom than we had before!~ Sunstreaker protested. ~All because we said we're interested!~

~I think that's the point,~ Sideswipe sighed. "You know _we_ were his chaperones a few times," he pointed out dryly.

"Of course," Jazz inclined his helm. "That was also work. I trust Mirage to keep his possessors on his duties when he's on a job."

"Yeah?" Sideswipe grinned, stretching his arms up to show his frame off as much as he could. "But not when he's around us off duty? Knew you had an optic for quality, Jazz." 

Jazz huffed. "You've already proven that I can't. You've done far more than just touch him, and we all know it. Out with you. I need to chat with my youngest."

The twins rose and nodded to Jazz, grinned at Mirage, and headed out of the office. 

~...Prowl?~ Sunstreaker asked. 

~Definitely Prowl,~ Sideswipe answered, and the door closed behind them. 

Mirage watched them go, then faced his commander, Lord, adopted creator, helm properly lowered.

"Is pleasure all you want of them?" Jazz's tone was gentle.

"I..." Mirage said, then trailed off, giving the question more thought. "There's attraction, there's definitely attraction. I _want_ there to be more. I want to see if it's possible. I think there could be more. This is the only way to find out." 

Jazz nodded. "They are good mecha. You know I trust them with your life. However, if you decide that all you want is pleasure, I will give you leave to enjoy them for that. Simply keep it in mind as they court you."

"I'm not giving my seals and my pleasure away for so little," Mirage said, shaking his head. "But I will keep it in mind."

"I will trust your judgment in what you want with them," Jazz told him with definite pride in the fact. "I'll be as nice or scary as you need. Just keep me apprised of it. You may go."

"Thank you," Mirage said, bowed properly, and slipped out.

* * *

"This is weird," Sunstreaker muttered, looking around as they walked into the commissary. They hadn't seen Mirage since the meeting with him and Jazz, not even talked to him, and Prowl had warned them that comming Mirage directly would not be permitted and to not even try. So they had commed Jazz instead and arranged a meeting with Mirage for one of the first orns when their duties wouldn't interfere. "Comm Jazz, meet Mirage." 

"Nobles are strange," Sideswipe shrugged, palming the dispenser and getting his ornly ration. His twin followed after and then they hesitated, unsure if they should find a table or wait for Mirage, which resulted in standing awkwardly near the doorway. It was not long before Mirage swept in with all the grace, poise and snooty command of one created, bred and raised to be better than anyone else.

Shadowing him was a smaller mech. Built much the same as Mirage, all lithe and smooth angles, but matte black. Not even his visor reflected light.

~Ah, frag,~ Sideswipe said as Sunstreaker grunted in agreement. "Whiplash," he greeted tentatively. 

"Do not acknowledge him," Mirage said coolly as he glided over. "You're here for me." 

"Yes sir," Sideswipe grinned. Sunstreaker kept his optics on Whiplash for another moment before looking at Mirage. 

"Hey," he greeted, shifting awkwardly, uncomfortable with the entire arrangement.

"Hello," Mirage inclined his helm faintly while Whiplash moved silently to fetch his energon.

Sunstreaker couldn't quite keep himself from monitoring Whiplash as they moved to an empty table. Whiplash was definitely categorized as **_Threat_** and the younger twin had never been able to stop monitoring one of those, no matter how long they'd been out of the arenas and away from the frontlines. Sideswipe wasn't any better, he was just slightly better at hiding it.

Once all four had settled Sideswipe cleared out his vocalizer, realizing that the social pressure from the strange engagement was quickly ruining his twin's already limited ability to interact. "So, this might actually be the strangest thing I've ever done," he said with an offered smile for the noble.

"It is a pleasant change for me," Mirage managed to chastise and thank them all in the same phrase. "My Lord seems to think well of you despite your upbringing. It would be pleasant to prove him right."

"We're gonna make sure we do," Sideswipe said, leaning back in his chair and searching for something else to say. Whiplash sitting there silently watching them was really, really distracting. "Do escorts always ... I mean, do they ever sort of hide somewhere? Could he sort of ... stand over there?"

"Surely you are not afraid of my _chaperone?_ " Mirage raised an optic ridge while Whiplash struggled not to laugh and grin like a maniac.

"Not _afraid_ of him," Sunstreaker grumbled. "He's just ... watching. It's creepy." 

Sideswipe sighed. "And I think we have to get used to it." ~Come on, we're gonna let something like a mech _watching_ us ruin this?~

~ _Creepy_ ,~ Sunstreaker insisted, but there was agreement there as well. 

"Definitely not afraid of him," Sideswipe said with a touch of injured pride about him. "Right. So. We know you like racing, and good polish, and Ops, and ... well, us," the red twin grinned at the noble. "But what else?"

"Culture," Mirage summed up so many things in a single, very, very complex glyph. "I enjoy dancing, the theater, parties and playing the lyre and harp, both grand and hand."

~Lyre?~ Sunstreaker asked. 

~Er...~ Sideswipe tried to decide if asking would be an insult, then figured none of this could really get worse. "What's a lyre, like a different kind of harp?"

Mirage paused and considered who he was speaking to. "It is classified as a small yoke lute. Something between a hand harp and a guitar."

"Okay, yeah," Sideswipe said, nodding. "There was a mech on the frontlines had a guitar, made life way less boring." 

"Will you play for us?" Sunstreaker asked, quiet hopefulness in the subharmonics. "You're probably a lot better than he was."

"I have no doubt I am," Mirage replied with a smooth smugness. "Yes. It does require somewhere reasonably quiet to enjoy."

"So later, then," Sideswipe agreed, and gave Mirage a rueful smile. "I'm sorry, we're not very good at this, I think. We don't usually ... take the slow route like this. Kind of a new thing."

Mirage hesitated, opened his mouth, then closed it again and just smiled at him. 

~Why is this so hard?~ Sideswipe groaned at his twin. ~It wasn't this hard before!~ 

~Beats me.~

~What did we talk to him about before?~

~Polish, sniping, racing?~ Sunstreaker suggested.

Sideswipe perked up and looked at Whiplash, about to ask something, then remembered and quickly looked back at Mirage. "I assume he stops me if I start to break rules, so go with me here. Ever ventured into the slummier parts of Iacon?"

"Not willingly," Mirage said carefully.

Sunstreaker suddenly brightened, too. "Oh, yeah, that place," he said. "Polish supplier, but not quite--" 

"He's pricey," Sideswipe interrupted quickly. "But makes the best polish available anymore. At least that we've found. ... Wanna go?"

"Polish he makes, not found?" Mirage asked, careful even as he was rather excited by the prospect of good polish. It was becoming harder to come by every vorn.

"Yeah he makes it," Sideswipe said, as all four finished their energon and stood. "Just about a half groon once off base, c'mon," he gestured for Mirage to follow and lead the way, radiating excitement.

Mirage cast a glance at Whiplash, who nodded, and followed the pair out.

* * *

Mirage managed to keep the pleased hum internal, showing only through his field, but he was in an unusually good mood. The big screen holo-vid production, seen in an actual facility for it, not someone's entertainment center, was a welcome bit of history and good memories for him. The holo-vid itself was sweet, a classic tale of a brave knight, evil warrior and beautiful noble in distress; exactly the kind that Mirage had loved to watch when he'd been younger. It brought so many warm memories to the fore, and it was nice to spend a few joors with the twins and not have to talk. That was still rather stilted, though it was getting better. At least sometimes.

The presence of the escort seemed to have destroyed all the chemistry they'd had before, and even now, their matte black shadow was trailing behind them by several paces, completely silent. But they couldn't see him or teek him, which seemed to put both twins immensely more at ease. They did much better when they forgot that they were being observed, like when they'd gotten focused on their work when they'd spent an afternoon training together, and then at a third outing on the race track. 

Sideswipe offered his arm in a slightly clumsy mimic of something he'd seen in the film, but it was worth it for the smile he got and the way Mirage wrapped his hand around his elbow. Sideswipe teeked, then grinned at him. "You liked that!"

"It was a pleasant diversion," Mirage managed not to purr. "I do enjoy the classic story form and it was not badly crafted."

"Good," Sideswipe said, and he _did_ purr. "I was worried it might be a flop, hard to tell with these reruns. Maybe coulda used a few more fights scenes..." 

"A _lot_ more fight scenes," Sunstreaker said, walking on the other side of Mirage. "The noble looked nice though." 

"Not as nice as this one," Sideswipe said. 

"Flattery," Mirage laughed, soft and light, just as he would have in the Towers to a welcome flirtation. The twins might not have understood that, but they understood his good mood and approval. "I must say though that I have been spoiled. The knight was not nearly as appealing as he should have been."

"Isn't flattery if it's true," Sunstreaker rumbled, unable to hide the pleased flare in his field from the compliment. 

"Were the Towers nobles like that?" Sideswipe asked curiously. "We lived in an estate for a while, until we were younglings, I don't remember the nobles there being quite so..." 

"In distress?" Sunstreaker said. "Yeah but they weren't being chased by an evil warrior." 

"Not that we saw much of them," Sideswipe shrugged. "The seneschal was raising us." 

"Prowl's kin, I expect," Mirage was sure of it. "The situation in the story never happened in the Towers, so no. Nobles are masters, but only of civilization. In ancient times, yes, that would have been a reasonable reaction for a second creation taken so far away from home, safety and his Lord. Put in uncivilized surroundings, many would be at least that distressed. We do not belong in such places any more than scavengers belonged in the Towers."

"Do you feel like you belong here, with the Autobots?" Sideswipe asked quietly. 

"On occasion," Mirage answered even more quietly. "Mostly below, with Ops."

Sideswipe frowned, glanced at his twin who confirmed that the noble's teek had definitely turned gloomier, then focused back on Mirage. "What were the Towers like?" he asked, hoping that the subject would lift the noble's mood a little. "I always heard they were pretty spectacular." 

"Oh yes," Mirage's field smoothed and warmed, almost fluttering with nostalgia. "They were amazing. Each tower resonated differently. A skilled listener could tell which one a mecha was from, or which a piece of music was composed for with only a few notes sung. They glittered every night, but the parties were truly spectacular. The best singers could bring the very core of the tower to life with their harmonies. It was amazing to feel as much as hear the choir."

"They ... resonated?" Sideswipe asked. "From singing? How?"

"Glittered, like actually lit up?" Sunstreaker asked, suddenly and intensely curious.

"Yes and yes," Mirage happily delved into memories of an existence long ago destroyed. "Every substance and object has a resonant frequency where it will vibrate with more strength than what is put into it. The Towers were crafted in such a way that a skilled choir could create the resonance in it despite its size and complexity."

"Sounds beautiful," Sunstreaker purred. "And each tower was different?" 

"Yes, and it was," Mirage smiled fondly.

"Which one were you from?" Sideswipe asked carefully, subharmonics indicating that Mirage didn't need to answer if the subject was too painful.

"The House of Swift Sky, descendant from the House of Star Fire. We resided in the Star Fire Tower," Mirage said with no small amount of pride.

~Good pick on the flic,~ Sunstreaker told his brother while they continued to ask about Mirage's life in the Towers. 

~It was ... painfully sappy,~ Sideswipe said. ~But I'm just glad he liked it. At least he's adorable when he's gushing.~

~It's a whole lot better than when he's snooty,~ Sunstreaker agreed.

* * *

Their sixth date had taken long enough to arrange, mostly thanks to Mirage being on a mission for three metacycles, that Sideswipe had won the metacycle tournament again. For once, he hadn't made high grade with his winnings, much to the shock and distress of many. What he had done with it he refused to say, but he was excited. By the time they'd managed to meet Mirage at the race track again the twins needed the racing desperately and rather surprised the noble with how completely they outlapped him.

They transformed after their last race with racing engines and frames panting out the heat, grinning at Mirage. "How about _those_ taillights, huh?" Sideswipe teased the noble as he joined them. "C'mon, let's go refuel." 

"Yes," Mirage said, his lighter armor venting the heat more easily as he followed them, Whiplash their ever-present shadow remaining out of teeking range. "Have you been abstinent in my absence?"

"How could you tell?" Sunstreaker asked dryly, his field flush with the excitement of the race. 

Sideswipe slung an arm around his twin's shoulders. "It's 'cause we're so mellow, isn't it," he said, grinning at Mirage.

"Yes, actually," Mirage gave them a tiny smile. "The energy buildup you must have experienced is impressive. What I do not understand is why."

"Um," Sunstreaker said, glancing at his twin. "Why not?"

Mirage paused, then gave them one of those tiny smiles that said they'd both just crossed a bizarre cultural line and he was immensely pleased, if perplexed, by their response.

"There is no expectation of it and it does not seem in your natures. I do not understand why you would ignore your desires that way," Mirage elaborated while he ignored the silent hysterics of the black mech shadowing them.

"It just didn't seem like, um, the polite thing to do?" Sunstreaker almost asked, not entirely sure what they'd done right or wrong but willing to just give thanks that Mirage wasn't displeased. 

"Though if it bothers you," Sideswipe said, chuckling, "We could start 'facing around..."

"Loyalty could never bother me," Mirage gave them an affectionate brush of his field. "Though it seems wrong to be the reason you no longer indulge your bonded."

The twins glanced at each other. "Well with each other it's--"

"--With you being gone and all--"

"--We just kept--"

"--And then we'd worry--"

"--And in the end--"

"--It was more frustrating than not," Sunstreaker finished ruefully. 

Mirage actually came to a physical stop and looked at them. "You desire me that much?" He couldn't quite keep the awe out of his tone.

The twins stopped a step later and turned towards him. "Well, yeah," Sideswipe said, glanced at Whiplash, and stepped close enough to brush his knuckles almost against Mirage's face. 

"You think we'd have patience for all this," Sunstreaker waved his hand, indicating the entire courting ritual, "If we didn't?"

"No, I suppose not," Mirage murmured, reminded that they saw the process so very differently. His field latched onto the near contact and wrapped around Sideswipe's hand, caressing and pulsing into it with how pleased he was that they were and did. "I never expected it, that I would be that much of a focus."

Sideswipe hummed, smiling, then started back towards the base as they asked Mirage about his mission and tried to hide how excited they were to have him back. They hardly cared that pretty much everything about the mission was something Mirage couldn't talk about.

"So we have something for you," Sideswipe said, once they were seated in the commissary with their rations. "'Cause you've been living off field rations and we had a lot of time to tinker while you were gone." He pushed a box forward. 

Mirage extended his hand, trusting more than he normally would be with anyone else, and drew the box to him before sliding it open. Yellow optics brightened noticeably and his mouth formed a delighted 'o' as he took in the contents. "How ever did you manage?"

"Energon from the double rations," Sideswipe said proudly. "Sunny's really creative with the additives." 

"And Sides knows how to work energon," Sunstreaker said. "Though there were some disastrous test trials." 

"Thank you," Mirage actually cooed as he selected one of the candies and slid it into his mouth, making a seductive show for the twins of his acceptance of their gift.

The twins purred, captivated, and Sunstreaker lifted a second treat once Mirage had finished, holding it out for the noble to take, and then they watched as he delicately accepted it between his lips, a look of bliss on his face as it melted in his mouth. 

"Oh Mi _rage_ ," said a sudden voice from behind. " _This_ is what you've lowered yourself to? Performing like a pleasurebot to a pair of drooling ruffians?"

The spell broken, both twins felt the flare of tightly controlled fury and disgust roil up in Mirage's field before being corralled and suppressed. "Be careful whom you insult, Tracks," he snipped back, intentionally stripping the mech's noble titles from the designation so only the Autobot Tracks was said.

" _Sweet_ spark," Tracks drawled, unfazed, "I don't _need_ to insult you, you're doing a plenty fine job of doing _that_ on your own. Puh- _lease_ tell me this is all a bad social experiment, I simply _cannot_ accept that you would choose _them._ " 

"Hey, slag-for-gears," Sunstreaker snarled, rising. "Wanna back off?"

"I was referring to their creators," Mirage said calmly as he brushed his field towards the twins, trying to calm them even as it said how very much he would enjoy their rage taken out on the other noble.

"Like I'm worried about a gutter's whore," Tracks said, and sneered at Sunstreaker. "Still trying to keep up your unkempt finish?"

Mirage stood with lethal grace and put a hand on Sunstreaker's arm, motioning him to stand down and step back. "You do not insult my Lord and our SIC with impunity, Tracks," Mirage's tone was ice cold and suddenly Whiplash was at his side, a silent threat. "I should turn you over to Jazz for that."

Tracks sniffed disdainfully, completely missing the message that Mirage had given him about the identity of those creators. "I'm not in that department, your wits have apparently fled with your sense of propriety." 

Sideswipe rose to flank his twin, scowling at the other first creation. "I'd start thinking before speaking, Tracks," he said in a low growl. 

"I'd start thinking before _acting,_ " Tracks said. "You honestly think you have _anything_ he could want? He was created to be at the side of someone _refined_ and powerful, you cannot appreciate the role he was intended to fill." 

"Maybe not, but we can appreciate _him_ as who he is," Sunstreaker snarled, but Mirage's light touch kept him from lunging.

"He is only upset because I refused his attentions and accepted yours," Mirage said loudly enough for anyone to hear, then lowered his voice and hissed, his armor ruffling at the insult to him and his House. "Do you truly believe Lord Jazz will take being called a gutter's whore very well? Or that I would let such an insult to my House Lord go unchallenged?"

Tracks gave a startled double take at him, then at the imposing presence of the twins behind him, finally putting all the small clues together. Optics brightened, and then his expression twisted into something sneering and ugly. "I do apologize, I misspoke and acknowledge my error. I mistakenly implied that he was from the gutters." 

It was Sideswipe's attack that came flying forward and his fist pummeled Tracks's face, knocking the other noble flat to the ground. Sunstreaker was on him a fraction of a klik later.

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker," Mirage tried to call them off, though even he admitted that he was highly gratified to see the other noble torn apart.

"Enough!" Prowl's commanding bellow rocked the room only kliks after that.

Sideswipe froze at that voice and immediately grabbed his twin, yanking him back as best he could. Sunstreaker was too focused on the mech and even Mirage got snarled at when he knelt down to help. Between the two of them they managed to get the battle-fogged frontliner back in time to look up to see Prowl glaring down at the whole lot.

"So who is going to explain what I saw and heard on the security recording?" Prowl's glare deepened at them before giving a meaningful glance towards Whiplash.

Whiplash held his hands up innocently. "My orders are to be a neutral presence," he said, then glanced at the three on the floor and the threatening stance he'd taken next to them. "Mostly." 

"He called Mirage a pleasurebot," Sunstreaker snarled, gaze still fixed on Tracks, who was starting to push himself up. 

"And Jazz a whore," Sideswipe growled with a warning flare of his armor to the groaning first creation. 

"And you," Mirage said, glaring at Tracks. "Technically. Gutter's whore."

Each accusation respoken turned Prowl's field a shade darker, reminded the few in the room who knew his past that he was still that mech, still the SpecOps trained survivor that had spent eleven centuries in Kaon hunting and killing Decepticons with nothing but his partner as backup and support. Even those who didn't know that truth did know that Jazz and Prowl were mates, very, very long-time mates and it was never a bright idea to insult such ranking officers.

"Words, an insult," Prowl still appeared to be completely composed. Only those close enough to teek him knew how furious he was as his gaze locked onto Tracks as the medics arrived to look the battered mech over. "You will explain why you walked up to them and intentionally provoked them to a fight."

" _They_ threw the first punch," Tracks complained, still completely sure of his position, but clearly rattled by the SIC. "I'm _merely_ attempting to point out the facade of this--this-- _farce_ of a courting, it's a mockery of our refined culture, an utter travesty! He's de _mean_ ing himself!" 

"How _dare_ you--!" Sunstreaker snarled.

"Enough!" Prowl's voice rose to a volume and pitch rarely heard outside the battlefield and the entire room froze on reflex. "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, my office for punishment detail. Baited or not, you did fight. Tracks," and now his fury was on cold display as the medics were waved away. "Autobots do not have nobility. The law applies to all mecha equally. If you cannot accept that truth, I will have you discharged."

Tracks blanched at that, and backed down. "Yes sir," he said tersely, but couldn't stop a smug look at the twins as they rose and dutifully left for Prowl's office. 

It left Mirage there looking at Prowl a little hesitantly. "And me, sir?" he questioned. 

"You were not part of the fight. You are free to go," Prowl kept his attention fixed on Tracks as the blue and white noble and his matte black shadow slipped silently away, the box on the table disappearing with them. "You will report to the brig now. I will determine your punishment after I deal with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker."

Tracks scowled but did not object and got shakily to his pedes, limping away.

* * *

Picking their way through the rumble of the Star Fire Tower, long ago scavenged clean of anything of conventional value, Sideswipe mused once more over their luck. Sure, their relationship with their creators was tense and occasionally explosive, but it was times like this where he knew without a doubt that the older mecha weren't holding grudges. Jazz could have made courting Mirage impossible, and Sideswipe honestly didn't want to know the mental gymnastics Prowl must have gone through to approve their extended leave and authorization to be here.

~It's guilt,~ Sunstreaker said matter-of-factly, catching the trail of thought. ~For getting us dragged into the youngling pits. We could get away with just about anything with them as long as it isn't actually breaking rules.~

~Jazz wouldn't have let us court Mirage just for guilt,~ Sideswipe said, picking through the crystal-embedded wreckage of the tower walls. 

~It's not like he could have stopped us,~ Sunstreaker pointed out. ~We don't _need_ his permission.~

~We do, because _Mirage_ does,~ Sideswipe said. ~I like him but Primus nobles are something else. Go through all this just to find a mate because rules say so? If Jazz told him no he woulda shut us out.~

Sunstreaker wanted to argue, but he knew in his core that it was true. Mirage was unfailingly dedicated to Jazz and as many of the noble ways as he could manage.

~What's really weird though, is that Prowl and Jazz _hate_ the caste system. I mean really hate it,~ Sideswipe continued to shift the topic a bit. ~Which is also weird, given Jazz came from the privileged ones.~

Sunstreaker snorted. ~Privileged ones that sold him to a glitched fragger. What I don't get is why he ran away from it, aren't second creations supposed to, I don't know, conform? I mean, to _anything?_ ~

~Yeah, but have you listened to Prowl talk about their early vorns? They were both totally in love from way before it was physical. Kinda like us. It'll override code if it's strong enough.~ Sideswipe said, though he wasn't as sure as he wanted to be. ~I think they bonded their loyalty code to each other instead of where it belonged.~

~Mm. That'd make sense. So that's probably why he hates the caste system. Screwed him over. Prowl hates it because it screwed Jazz over. So then, what was all that about inheriting his estate?~ Sunstreaker frowned.

~Mirage,~ Sideswipe shrugged. ~It's all for Mirage. You know he thinks of Jazz as his House Lord, and Mirage is Jazz's heir, so the House goes to Mirage, and by their screwed up laws, to us if we're with him. Does it even matter if the House only exists between the two of them? It makes Mirage feel better.~

~As long as we don't have to host stupid parties and slag,~ Sunstreaker growled, then softened. ~But if it makes Mirage feel better, I guess ... but none of that, that dancing slag they did in that vid.~

Sideswipe laughed. ~You know full well you'd do it if it would make Mirage happy enough. I think the singing with the crystal will be enough though. If we can find the blasted thing.~

Sunstreaker huffed, kicking at a painting that had no doubt been considered extremely valuable art, turning it over to look. ~You'd do anything too,~ he grumbled, cocking his head at the canvas. 

~Yeah, I would, but I don't contest it either,~ Sideswipe teased him back.

Sunstreaker ignored him in favor of examining the painting. ~Look at this, the style's all cold and static and unfeeling. No passion to it at all.~

Sideswipe glanced over his twin's shoulder and hummed. ~Think he might sit still for you to show him what a real portrait looks like?~

Sunstreaker brightened and looked at his twin, then drooped again. ~Haven't painted a proper portrait in so long, Sides,~ he sighed, then smirked at his red half. ~Wanna sit for a few?~

~Sure,~ Sideswipe smiled, delighted to have prodded his twin into his only peaceful hobby. ~The results always look good.~ His attention sharpened suddenly, focusing on something mostly buried and covered with dust.

~Maybe we'll make some of them the slightly more _interesting_ kind of portrait,~ Sunstreaker purred as he followed his twin's gaze down and cocked his head. ~Kinda looks like...~ 

The twins knelt down and cleared away the debris and pulled out a carving. It had been painted, once, but much of that had chipped away and the edges were chipped and cracked, but the design was still clear. "Hey!" Sunstreaker said, forgetting about being quiet in his excitement. "It's that thing!"

"His House ... insignia thing," Sideswipe agreed, his voice low to remind his brother. ~And I'd love for some to be _interesting_ portraits. It's not the crystal, but I bet we can patch this up, paint it and he'd go all swooning over the effort.~

~A swooning Mirage is a good Mirage,~ Sunstreaker agreed, cringing as he quieted again. Six, seven, eight dates had passed and Whiplash was still shadowing. As much as they'd gotten used to his presence, it was discouraging that Jazz hadn't called him off yet. 

Likely because the sixth date had ended with them in the brig, though, so neither had started complaining. Yet.

~C'mon, that crystal has to be around here somewhere. There's tiny ones everywhere, they can't be valuable to scavengers. What'd he call it, the core of the tower? So...~ Sunstreaker pulled up the map they had of the area and placed their coordinates on it. ~Looks like the towers all fell that way...~ He pointed. ~Was it the literal center?~

~Yeah, at least Prowl was pretty sure of it,~ Sideswipe nodded as he subspaced the crest and they moved towards the base of the tower where large chunks of the core support should still be close to where the map had it. ~Even he wasn't sure.~

~I always thought there was just, you know, _nobles_ ,~ Sunstreaker said as they walked. ~Not much difference between 'em. Now there are more kinds than I can count,~ he rolled his optics. ~Oh, _hello_ ,~ he purred as they all but stumbled onto a giant pile of shattered crystal. ~That looks promising. Leads...~ He lined his fingers up to the trail. ~There.~

It took them a few kliks to get there and dig it out, but once they had, they looked at each other, grinning. 

~Sensors say there's nothing for megamiles. Want to try singing out here, where no one will hear it, and we can shoot them if they do?~ Sideswipe asked, uneasy about trying this trick back at base where there was limited privacy, even if they had noticeably more than most.

~...Oh yeah,~ Sunstreaker grumbled. ~Singing. Hey, how about you sing, I guard.~

Sideswipe scowled, but nodded. ~No laughing. You're next.~

~But Sides,~ Sunstreaker said innocently, ~I'm sure you'll do it so well I won't have to!~

~Since we _both_ have to sing to him at a major party, you're going to want to be on key,~ Sideswipe pointed out dryly. ~You don't sing, you don't get to move on.~ He drew in a deep vent of air and began to shift his vocalizer through pitches.

Sunstreaker huffed, settled in, and listened. Breems later, nothing had happened in the pile. 

"I was kinda hoping this would be easy," Sunstreaker complained, kicking at the pile. "I wonder if it works if they're all piled together." 

"We have to try singing to them _one at a time?_ " Sideswipe said, and threw his hands up in defeat. 

"Well?" Sunstreaker said. "Have any better ideas?"

Sideswipe forced himself to still, calm down and really _think_. "Okay, the original core was symmetrical and without flaws. Let's try to find or shape a chunk that looks like the original."

"Better than nothing," Sunstreaker shrugged, and they started the tedious process of sorting through the crystal wreckage. 

By the end they had a collection lined up of possible candidates, from their idea of most likely to least likely. 

"Your turn," Sideswipe smirked at his twin. 

Sunstreaker glared, but dutifully plopped down and began going through different notes. On the fifth crystal, set carefully upright, it flickered. 

~See that?~ Sideswipe's excitement was electric.

~I saw.~ Sunstreaker repeated the frequency, then Sideswipe added to it in perfect harmony and it flickered more and began to resonate, humming in reply to them. 

~That is _so_ cool,~ Sideswipe's amazement didn't interrupt his voice.

Sunstreaker's own enjoyment was vibrant over the bond as they carefully shifted their voices together, one of them always on the same pitch in a different harmonic. When they'd explored and recorded a variety of notes and harmonics, they quieted, grinning at each other. 

"So now all we have to do is write a song," Sunstreaker said. 

"Or adapt one," Sideswipe said. 

Sunstreaker nodded as they stood up, fields bright with their success. "Think he'd like anything else from all this? I'm amazed he survived ... he was here, right? When it happened?"

"I don't think we've ever asked," Sideswipe admitted. "But he's talked about hunting and music a lot. Maybe there's a gun, or turbofox or instrument that made it." Sideswipe paused. "You know ... Prowl's done a lot to help us. If we find a game... Sovereign, treck ... it'd be nice, ya know."

"Yeah it would be," Sunstreaker hummed. "Yeah, sure, if we see something, I guess. ... We should ask him, about that," he said quietly, switching back to wondering if Mirage had been here when the Towers fell. "Sometime. When we can. If it isn't going to hurt too much, I guess. He gets all quiet sometimes."

"Like we don't?" Sideswipe murmured as they began a systematic search for anything interesting now that they had what they'd come for. "Is there _anybody_ we know that doesn't?"

"No, but..." Sunstreaker gestured for a moment, searching for words. "I _care_ when he does."

"Yeah, I know," Sideswipe gave his brother a reassuring look. "Like he cares when we go quiet. But ... sometimes I _want_ to tell him about that stuff, just so he knows why we _are_."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker agreed, frowning. "Do you think ... if we survive this war, if anything is left ... are we too messed up for him?"

Sideswipe still, digesting that all the way to his spark before answering. "No," he answered softly. "No, we aren't. He cares about us, and we care about him. Just look at Prowl and Jazz. They make us seem _way_ right in the processors, but not even you can say they don't support each other. We'll make it work. Like we told Jazz, we have something to aspire to now."

Sunstreaker nodded quickly, latching onto his twin's certainty. "I want to ... try and get better for him. I know I'll never be ... _right_ , y'know? But better. 'Cause ... I think he wants sparklings. He gets all glowy when he talks about them."

"Yeah," Sideswipe walked up and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Yeah, he does. It'd be nice, you know, having something that's really the future from us. Might want to find out even twins even can kindle, before going too far down that path."

"Prowl said he thought we could, just that we'd both have to be involved, 'causa the split spark thing," Sunstreaker said. "Just hope we make it that long."

"Yeah, but he's not a medic either," Sideswipe shoved that whole debate to the bottom of his processing queue. "We made it this far just on surviving for its own sake." ~We have a _reason_ to make it now,~ he added over the bond. ~Don't go all morbid on me. Not when life's just starting to show some promise of not sucking big time.~

~It's also a reason to be afraid of deactivation,~ Sunstreaker pointed out. ~Never had one of those before.~ He kicked at the ground, then pulled out a bent and mangled hunting rifle that had once been a work of art as well as functional. ~Makes us fight better, though. Betcha someone can fix this up.~

~I'm sure of it,~ Sideswipe agreed, allowing Sunstreaker to subspace that prize before they continued the scavenger hunt.

* * *

Mirage had been more than a little dubious about this particular venue, as he'd described it, for a date, but the twins had insisted and he'd finally agreed to attend one of the regular metacycle parties that followed the fighting tournaments. A few joors after the fights ended it always calmed down and turned into more of a social event for mecha who were so inclined to attend. It was the closest they could get to a proper event. 

~...No, I changed my mind,~ Sunstreaker said, from where he was plastered against the wall, watching Mirage smile as he talked with another SpecOps agent. ~I can't do this.~

~Then I'll do it by myself,~ Sideswipe half insulted, half reassured him he wouldn't be alone. ~Mirage is _worth_ it. It's not like you have much to lose here. I'm the one with a social standing.~

~Flattery will get you nowhere,~ Sunstreaker said sarcastically, but puffed up a little at the implication in Sideswipe's voice that he might be afraid of something. ~Okay. It'll be over soon, Mirage is worth it,~ he repeated again, and pushed off the wall. It didn't escape his attention that as soon as they started heading towards the blue and white noble, Jazz appeared from out of the crowd to serve as escort.

~He is. He's worth all this slag and more. Just look at how he looks at us,~ Sideswipe smiled at Mirage while he purred his desire to his brother. ~No one's ever looked at us like that before.~

Sunstreaker could only purr his agreement back at his twin as Mirage turned to face them, smiling and dipping his helm in a familiar but still proper greeting. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked. 

Sunstreaker immediately froze up and forgot what words were, and shoved his brother over the bond. 

Sideswipe sent a soothing, _I've got it_ pulse back and inclined his helm in the proper reply. With fingers he was trying very hard to keep from trembling, he brought the crystal from the Star Fire tower out and offered it. "We would sing for you tonight."

Mirage's reaction was immediate and dramatic, yellow optics brightened and fixated on the crystal, then went up to one twin, then the other, as his field rippled out in waves, stunned. Even Jazz's mouth dropped open slightly, though neither twin was looking at him, and Prowl only smiled softly. 

"This is..." Mirage said, and reached out to brush his fingers against the crystal, and as his focused his field against it, it glittered faintly, barely visible in the light but there. "How did you..." 

His reaction drew more than a little attention, and the expression on Jazz's face drew the rest, to the point where everyone who could see them hushed, and the rest of the room went quiet in response and started straining to see what was happening in the center. 

~...I think I'm gonna crash,~ Sunstreaker said.

~Don't you dare. You've performed for much bigger crowds,~ Sideswipe pushed over the bond as he answered Mirage. "You are worth it." With all his remaining courage, he began to hum. Pure notes that had take entirely too much to learn how to do, both in practice and in watching the single vid they could scrounge out of the archives of such a performance.

Sunstreaker joined in a moment later, latching onto his twin's momentum and following, and after a few bars, the crowd and all the optics and all the expressions pointed at them just faded away, until it was just them, Mirage, and the crystal that was beginning to glow. 

They'd modified the glyphwork in the song a little to work better for Mirage, but they'd lucked onto a fairly generic sounding poem that suited their purposes and stuck with that, and had to hope that the noble liked it. 

From the way his field was glowing, "like" was an understatement.

As their voices drew the poem to a close, Mirage's voice rose in answer. Clear and strong, far more refined and practiced even after having given up on ever singing again for so long, it was full of acceptance, returned desire and hope for the future. The crystal in Mirage's hands glowed all the more brightly as it hummed in resonance to their voices, a background hint of what had once been a visceral experience for all in the building.

The room, if possible, was even more silent than it had been while the twins were singing on their own, and when Mirage's final, ringing note stopped echoing, there was a hushed moment of awe. 

The twins, exhilarated and amazed, couldn't hide the way their fields and optics lit up, and even Sunstreaker forgot how nervous he'd been when he saw the look on Mirage's face. 

"We ... got you something else," Sunstreaker murmured, leaning in close to Mirage's audial, taking the moment to brush their fingertips together. "We asked Jazz to put it in your quarters."

Mirage quivered, his armor ruffling in the most obvious expression of something other than snootiness that most mecha there had seen. It made him suddenly so very _normal_. He gave a quick nod and moved towards the exit, his frame almost gliding but his field alive with anticipation. He trusted Jazz to do his part as chaperone, either himself or with another.

~Come on.~ Sideswipe gave his brother a quick shove and tried to contain his excitement enough to have some dignity in following Mirage.

On the way out, they saw quite a few astounded faces, glimpsed Prowl's proud one, and somehow managed to not stick their glossas out at Tracks, who looked like he might melt if he simmered for much longer. Jazz became their immediate shadow, following a respectful distance behind. 

With Jazz and Mirage accompanying, there was no resistance offered to enter the underground Ops facility and they followed Mirage to his chambers, glancing at Jazz before following him in. Jazz stood in the open doorway, watching as Mirage came to an abrupt halt at seeing the display on the far wall, centered perfectly on the doorway. 

The cracked, chipped and faded House of Swift Sky crest was now in perfect condition. The flaws filled and corrected and painted to a vibrancy it hadn't known since Mirage had seen it in his home tower. Under it rested a hunting riffle of exquisite craftsmanship. Though its finer details had been lost to damage and repair, it still looked like it could have been brand new and was painted to make up for the lost carvings.

Mirage clutched the crystal from his tower's core all the tighter as his emotional control threatened to dissolve completely.

"Sorry, is it--we hoped it wouldn't be too much but--we thought you might like--" Sunstreaker stammered, uncertain of what to make of the noble's staring silence. "But if ... I mean, too much and tell us and--" 

"If it's too much, we'll take it," Sideswipe cut in softly, translating for his twin who was more susceptible to emotion in general than he was. He was taking the moment to look around the room they'd never seen before, seeing more trinkets on shelves and hanging from the walls. The crest fit in well.

"No, no, please don't take it," Mirage found his voice and reached out with his field to try and express just how _amazing_ this was, how deeply it touched him. Eventually he regained enough control of his frame and all but launched himself against Sunstreaker for a kiss so full of passion that Jazz felt the need to cycle his vocalizer.

Sunstreaker regretfully let Mirage back but didn't take his hands off the noble's waist. "Glad you like it," he purred, nuzzling. 

"Hey," Sideswipe looked at Jazz, "Since he got a kiss, do I get one too? It's only fair."

"A kiss is acceptable," Mirage smiled at him, giddy and almost dizzy at all he'd been given in the last joor. He reluctantly pulled away from Sunstreaker to embrace Sideswipe and kiss him the same heated, engine-revving kiss his brother had received. "He was warning me against going further."

The twins both looked somewhat hopefully at Jazz after a few moments when the kiss broke. This was going on their tenth official, planned outing and they both felt that it had been incredibly successful, but he looked back with no expression, and no indication that he planned on moving from the doorway. 

Mirage reached over and drew Sunstreaker against his back and purred between them to distract them, head on Sideswipe's chest and looking at the crest. "Who painted that? It's amazing work."

Sideswipe pulsed support and encouragement over the bond, reminding Sunstreaker of how well everything had gone so far.

"I did," Sunstreaker melted into the contact, feeling how _right_ it was to have this mech between them. "I ... do paintings, sometimes. Do you think ... maybe you'd sit for one, sometime soon?"

"A portrait?" Mirage said, trilling with curious interest and pleasant surprise at that knowledge, something he hadn't expected from Sunstreaker, and nodded his agreement. "I would enjoy that very much." He looked at Jazz, who inclined his helm in permission. 

"I will contact you to arrange an appropriate time," Jazz said. 

Mirage smiled and hummed and relaxed in the twins' arms, happy to simply rest there for as long as they were allowed.

* * *

Three sets of guards were responsible for the personal safety of the Prime, which meant Sunstreaker and Sideswipe only had to bribe two mecha to clear out of their shared quarters for the afternoon. Sunstreaker had been obsessively going over his paint, brushes, and canvas, checking that everything was in the order he preferred, perfectly spaced, and the highest quality they were capable of obtaining. 

Sideswipe arrived late, which was almost enough to make Sunstreaker panic, but he had retrieved the last part of their gift from the Towers from Wheeljack and Sunstreaker settled as soon as his twin was there. He'd practiced for this, Mirage would enjoy it. 

"Ready?" Sideswipe asked, looking over the set-up.

"As I'll ever be," Sunstreaker controlled a quiver of his armor. "The fox is all set up, nothing to go boom?"

"Hope not," Sideswipe gave it a slightly wary look. "Ratchet promised me he looked it over ... though knowing him _he_ might have set something up," he rolled his optics. "That'd probably start us completely back over with this escort deal." 

"We'll have to trust them," Sunstreaker made a face. "We'll know soon enough."

Sideswipe nodded with an eager resettling of his armor as the door chimed. They sent the command for it to open simultaneously and it slid away to allow Mirage, followed by Jazz, into the room.

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker. It is good to see you," Mirage inclined his helm to them in a proper greeting, but his frame and armor, subtle as it was, told of great excitement.

The twins tried to hide their disappointment as Jazz first looked around, nodded his satisfaction, and then settled against the wall to watch, and instead focused on Mirage. Sunstreaker rose, fiddling with one of his brushes. "Hey," he said, with a half-grin. "So, I thought I'd paint you sitting, if you wanted, or maybe reclining, it's up to you. You'll have to hold the pose for a bit, but talking is okay."

Mirage nodded his understanding and considered the options for a klik before deciding to sit on the floor, his legs tucked under him and lounged to the side. It was a seductive pose if the viewer wanted it to be, but utterly proper as well, and posed perfectly for Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker purred and nodded, walking over and circling the lithe noble to get a feel of the position and angles, recording the 360 view for later reference, and then knelt down in front of him. "Chin up a touch," he said, voice low, lifting with his finger. "Hand here, fingers relaxed. There. Try not to move." 

"You can move a little," Sideswipe said, getting a glare from his twin. He looked back with wide-opticked innocence. "What? He can! If you tell _that_ mech not to move he will be indistinguishable from stasis the entire time." He looked back at Mirage. "Optics can move, you can talk, make expressions." 

"Well, yeah, those," Sunstreaker relented.

"I understand," Mirage didn't hide his smile or the pride he felt at Sideswipe's description of his 'do not move' response. "I have posed a few times for more artistically inclined kin."

"You'll do a lot of posing for Sunny if you're around," Sideswipe said, looking at his twin with a smirk. "For reasons unknown he doesn't like mecha to know he paints." 

Sunstreaker glowered at him. "Who ever heard of a frontliner painting?"

"Who ever heard of a frontliner noble since well before the Golden Age?" Mirage teased back. "Though I do believe our Prime earns the highest marks for 'how did that happen?' histories. Truly, a dock worker becoming a warrior-Prime? It's beyond comprehension, yet it happened. A miner becoming as powerful as a Prime is almost as ridiculous, yet it also occurred."

"At least those are strong things to become," Sunstreaker said as he began mixing paints, now that he had Mirage in front of him to compare shades. "Warriors. Painting isn't exactly useful for staying alive."

"Perhaps not, but without any joys in existence or promise of them in the future, what is the purpose to continuing?" Mirage asked quite seriously. "Culture is _valuable_. Skills that give others pleasure are valuable. The war must end. When it does we will need artisans, brewers and confectioners more than warriors."

"Suppose," Sunstreaker said. 

"Especially brewers," Sideswipe grinned, looking over his twin's shoulder. 

"I doubt my work would sell, anyway," Sunstreaker shrugged.

"May I see some?" Mirage asked hopefully. "I have a good education in art history and the market."

"I was never trained," Sunstreaker said apologetically as Sideswipe slipped away into the room that currently served as theirs and came back with a large sketchbook that had canvas pages spilling out of it. 

"Last three are those ones of you, Sides," Sunstreaker said. 

"Got it," Sideswipe said, and rifled through the book, taking three sheets out and tucking them into the back cover, upside down, before settling on the ground next to Mirage and opening the book, slowly turning the pages. 

"Don't have any of the stuff I drew on the frontlines anymore," Sunstreaker said. "Oil on sheet metal, mostly. Don't preserve well _or_ travel easy."

"Sometimes coming into something self-trained is what is needed," Mirage murmured. He kept his frame completely still, only his optics moving to take in images of mecha, many of whom he recognized the basic design of. They tended to be lighter frames, like himself and Whiplash, but what was striking was the raw emotion captured in what was sometimes only a few dozen brush strokes. Bleak landscapes of shattered cities and wastelands were interspersed, and to Mirage's shock held just as much intensity as those of mecha.

"No one has ever trained you?" Mirage whispered in stunned awe, but also belief. It was enough to draw Jazz closer, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"No?" Sunstreaker said, glancing up for the first time from his work at the tone of the noble's voice, looking between him and Jazz as the two watched. "Just always sort of ... _needed_ to put things into images." 

~Oh, you should teek him,~ Sideswipe said, and Sunstreaker sent the warm giddiness in his spark back.

"Very different, but exceptional," Jazz offered his opinion.

"Definitely," Mirage agreed. "Nothing like what the masters were creating before the war, but there were Houses that would have been a strong patron for you and this style."

"Heh. If you say so," Sunstreaker said, and dipped his brush into the first shade of light blue and drew it across the paper. " _I_ know it's amazing work, of course, but not the most popular style."

"It could easily become such when the war is done," Mirage said reasonably as Jazz backed away. "After all, there is no popular style at the moment and you have very powerful patrons should you choose to use them."

As he finished speaking, no one in the room missed the door opening and then sliding closed with the black and white mech on the far side of it.

The twins froze, then looked at the door, as if they were expecting to open again immediately as the SpecOps commander changed his mind, and then when it stayed shut, looked at Mirage. 

"Does that mean..." Sunstreaker said. 

"We are no longer under chaperone," Mirage quivered with anticipation. "It means we can kiss in public, and we can share any pleasure that does not break my seals."

Sunstreaker's hand shook and he had to quickly pull the brush back from the page. "Sides," he murmured after a moment. "You should show him those ones of you, those are my favorite." 

Sideswipe quickly nodded and pulled the three sheets from the back of the portfolio. There was no way to miss the catch of Mirage's vents or the surge of desire in his field when he saw the first one. It wasn't explicit, but it was most definitely erotic on a level that Mirage's pose wasn't.

Sunstreaker smiled slightly in memory. Sideswipe was on his back in that one, up on one elbow, looking down between splayed legs. That one had been for perspective practice. 

The next was a speedpaint, and even without looking Sunstreaker knew the moment Sideswipe switched to that one when he heard the muffled groan. It was rougher, more blurry, but he'd had to paint it in the time it took Sideswipe to bring himself to overload with his hand on his spike. 

"How long did you have?" Mirage's voice was shaky.

"Breem or so, d'ya think, Sides?" Sunstreaker asked, and smirked. "He wasn't being helpful." 

"You need the practice," Sideswipe smirked back. "Just lookin' out for ya, bro." 

Mirage's ventilations picked up sharply and his optics sought out Sideswipe's. "Do you have any captures of Sunstreaker?"

Sideswipe gave a pleased hum. "Plenty, but none quite so beautiful as his work, just memory captures." He flipped to the last page, a more traditional style that had taken longer, a simple pose, still, with his spike and valve bared. 

"No, there's some mirror work in there," Sunstreaker said, looking up. "Somewhere in the middle, when you weren't around a few times." 

"Holding out on me?" Sideswipe teased as he began searching for the right ones. 

Sunstreaker snorted. "Like you haven't seen all of it in every incarnation it's taken," he said. 

"Please," Mirage whispered, wanting so very badly he ached.

"A few more breems?" Sunstreaker pleaded, knowing what they all wanted. "I want to finish this." 

"He won't finish things that get interrupted," Sideswipe said, and found the mirror paintings, turning the book for Mirage to see. Sunstreaker rarely painted anything explicitly erotic of himself, but there were a few, preceded by several pages full of small sketches of slender frames, and Sideswipe briefly flipped through those to give Mirage some context for the work.

The noble groaned, his optics riveted on the image before moving over to the mech they were of. "You must be intense to watch."

"Guess you'll get to find out?" Sideswipe said with an excited rumble, then looked at his twin. "Would you hurry up?" 

Sunstreaker glowered at him. "You want me to just hurry up." 

"Well ... yeah?"

"You're just lucky I want him too," Sunstreaker muttered as he worked. "Or I'd slow down to piss you off. But I'm not hurrying." 

Sideswipe sulked at him, tried to ignore the noble's quiet laughter, and kept turning pages in the sketchbook for Mirage to look at while they waited. While the complements were not unexpected from a potential lover, the honesty was refreshing, and for Sunstreaker so were the other comments about value, how to display and sell. Mirage admitted he was far from an expert, but he was a noble and collecting art was simply part of the basic education.

"All right, you can move now," Sunstreaker finally reached a stage where he was content with the work.

Mirage smiled, leaned in to catch a quick kiss from Sideswipe, then stood and stretched, making a display of himself for his lovers before walking over to Sunstreaker to look at the painting and fondle the distinctive helm vents.

Sunstreaker purred and pressed into the contact, _touch_ from someone he trusted soothing so many stresses. He turned and wrapped an arm around Mirage's waist and pulled him halfway into his lap while they looked over the painting together. Sideswipe came around behind them. 

"Kind of rushed," Sunstreaker admitted.

"You will have many more opportunities when we are not so eager to move," Mirage purred and pressed against him, subtly rubbing their chests together. "You've done my frame justice for the time you had."

"Like your frame," Sunstreaker rumbled, then tugged Mirage's hips against his and stood, lifting Mirage in his arms. The spy wrapped his legs around Sunstreaker's waist, balancing, holding onto broad shoulders. 

"I keep expecting Jazz to burst back in," Sideswipe admitted as he followed his twin and their courted noble back to the berthroom, bringing the sketchbook with him and tucking it back beneath the berth while Sunstreaker laid Mirage down on top of it and kissed him.

"He will not," Mirage assured them between kisses. His hands moved to explore Sunstreaker's frame, enjoying the strength and warmth of it. Big, strong frontliner builds were rare in Ops, and even rarer in the Towers. "What pleasures may I indulge you in?"

"U-uhm," Sunstreaker stammered, jolting back from the kisses, and looked at his twin, who gave him a half shrug back. "With the seals, isn't there not much..." 

"That ... thing you did with your field," Sideswipe said, half questioning, and pushed at his twin's shoulder, moving him a little to the side so he could lean in for his own kiss. By the time he pulled away, he was panting with _want_. "Are you allowed to overload? _Can_ you overload?"

"Yes, I am allowed, and yes, I can," Mirage gave them a curious look. "There are many ways to share pleasure that do not involve my seals. Field play, which I did earlier. Hardline, memory and tactile are all viable for my pleasure."

"We don't know what any of those are," Sideswipe admitted after a moment's consultation over the bond, as Sunstreaker moved back enough for him to fit on the berth. Mirage rolled to his side, facing the yellow twin, while the red one came up behind him, black hands a sharp contrast as they wandered his lighter colored frame.

"Then I will teach you, if you wish to learn," Mirage told them easily as he pressed into Sideswipe's hands with a pleased hum. "Hardline interfacing comes in two primary forms. One is exchanging energy, the other is doing so with data packs to immerse one partner into a memory. Tactical is what it sounds like. Touching to build arousal and charge until overload."

"That one," Sunstreaker said quickly. Anything where he could be touching the noble, nothing that involved memories, and Sideswipe hummed his agreement as they effectively trapped Mirage between them. Sunstreaker claimed another kiss, heated and deep and _finally-finally-finally_ surged through his field.

"I am quite willing to pleasure your spikes and valves, just not with my own," Mirage moaned at the welcome assault and made an effort to touch them in return. "Tactile requires some patience."

Sideswipe groaned and clutched him, face pressed to the side of his neck and their legs hooked together. "Yeah, patience was never really..." 

"...Our strong point," Sunstreaker finished as his hands joined his twin's on the slender frame, touching and exploring and rapidly categorizing the noises Mirage was making as they stroked and moved over different seams. His spike cover slid away and the housing spiraled open. "Just ... wanna keep doing this," he managed before pressing into another kiss.

"Yes, please!" Mirage gasped at the raw intensity rolling of them both into him. "Feels so good."

Sunstreaker managed a grunt of agreement to that before his engines revved and he pushed Mirage to his back, moving smoothly with his twin as he came over top of the smaller frame and pressed him down, ravishing his mouth and grinding against his frame, _heat_ and _lust_ and _want_ all fusing together and swirling around. Sideswipe settled beside, kissing Mirage's neck and rubbing his pelvis against both the others, just as wrapped up in the intoxicating field mix as his brother was. 

Sunstreaker couldn't keep his spike from extending, not even if he'd tried, not with Mirage beneath him and kissing him and touching all over with one hand while the other reached out to Sideswipe. Slender black fingers reached for the gold and black spike, caressing it at first just with fingertips, then the full flat of his palm.

It made Sunstreaker shudder and created an instinctive _impulse-push-bury-now_ reaction to cascade through his processor and his hips moved, his twin's presence keeping him steady and where he was, just pushing into the welcome hand, sliding against the palm.

Sideswipe moaned next to them, feeling everything for the first time through the bond, as his spike pressurized out as soon as the cover retracted away. "Good, like that," he whispered of what Mirage was doing with his fingertips against his twin. "He's loving that."

"And you?" Mirage easily split his attention to explore Sideswipe's spike with his other hand without either mech being neglected. Every line, curve and sensor in the well-crafted and sensitive lengths was explored with infinite patience but also with close attention to the desires of the mechs being touched.

" _Yes,_ " Sideswipe moaned, and he went still but for the shivers in his frame, a sharp contrast to his twin's sharp, pushing thrusts. "Yes it's good."

"You can tell me anything," Mirage purred to them both as he continued to stroke and tease. "Anything I can do for you, I will."

"Just keep doing that," Sideswipe said, speaking for them both because Sunstreaker was rapidly reaching the point where he wasn't good for much other than reacting. He reached down to cover Mirage's hand with his own, shifting the grip to where he liked best, and then cried out at the next stroke. "Harder," he managed. "Try and finish me first."

Immediately slender black fingers closed a bit more tightly and stroked him fast and hard. Mirage thrust his field deep into Sideswipe, encouraging his charge to build that much faster.

Sunstreaker gave a sharp whine at the attention he could suddenly feel his twin getting but Sideswipe's deep, reassuring rumble settled him again quickly and the red twin went back to enjoying the attentions of the mech they had won the right to touch. 

It didn't take long, not with Mirage's programming identifying gasps and teeks and cataloguing them all with the motions that created them, syncing pressure and speed and location. It was everything he'd been created for, pleasing another in the way they liked best and his coding _sang_ with the freedom to finally touch them. 

" _Frag,_ " Sideswipe gasped, half of his processor still trying his best to move his hand over Mirage's frame, clumsy compared to the noble, and then a short, sharp groan caught in his vocalizer as he overloaded, spilling over black fingers, shuddering and gripping. 

It earned a flared of pleasure from Mirage, deeply imbedded coding praising the noble for pleasuring his courter. The heat and crackle of the gooey fluid would normally have disgusted him, but linked into Sideswipe and interfacing and _permission_ it was a welcome sensation. Mirage continued to stroke the red and black spike to draw out the pleasure as long as possible before Sideswipe crumpled, gasping and momentarily spent.

That was when the teek from above suddenly changed, shifted, and Sunstreaker's arms were around him, pulling him tight and close as thighs clenched down and his hips pistoned forward. Insistent and wanting and when Sideswipe shifted up and put a hand on his twin's shoulder, there was a very soft growl from the engine. 

It quieted in the next moment when Sideswipe flared his field out. "Pull your hand back," the older twin instructed. "Just let him control this."

Mirage shifted that little bit, drawing his hand out and resting both of them on Sunstreaker's shoulders. He put no strength to it, no effort to control, simply a loose embrace and contact as the much heavier mech grunted and ground against him. As much as Mirage tried to hold still, his frame tingled and a soft whine escaped him as his hips tried to rise into the thrusts.

It felt insanely good, driving him towards protocols that were not yet active and wouldn't be until a contract for him was signed. He knew how long that wait might be and he shoved that thought process to the side, enjoying the coding thrill of pleasuring an accepted courted, something he hadn't been sure he would ever enjoy again.

The spike rubbing against his pelvis with all the force and weight of the frontliner behind it was hot, heavy, thick, driving forward with jagged, uneven thrusts as the mech panted harshly. Every drive seemed faster, harder, until Sunstreaker was shouting and gripping and pushed down so hard that Mirage almost wondered if his hips would be able to take the force behind it. Sunstreaker erupted between their frames, shooting burst after burst of transfluid onto Mirage's abdomen.

Coding purred at him more and made the charge dancing across his circuitry feel pleasant rather than frustrating. His courters were satisfied and that was enough for him.

The pitch of Sunstreaker's engine gradually shifted up into a lighter purr and his frame slowly relaxed and settled. When Sideswipe reached in to turn Mirage's head for a kiss, he got a less than thrilled plating ruffle, but Sunstreaker didn't protest. 

"How d'we do that tactile thing?" Sideswipe asked a few kliks later, when his twin was fully relaxed and had shifted half off of Mirage.

Such a simple question with such a complex answer. 

"The same touches that arouse, that feel good, will eventually cause an overload," Mirage hoped he explained it well enough. "When the protocols engage, most touching will cause a small charge. With continued stimulation that charge will get high enough."

"So like this," Sideswipe said, brushing his fingers down Mirage's side, while Sunstreaker leaned in and kissed down the side of Mirage's helm, going to his jaw, then his neck. "Really? Just this?"

"Yes," the noble moaned and pressed into the touch. "It takes patience. It is the longest and most difficult method to master," he rambled slightly as black fingers that were entirely too nimble for their large size stroked and caressed him, exploring his frame with strokes of molten pleasure. "Feels so good."

"Heh." Sideswipe grinned, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better view and started carefully running his hand over Mirage's entire frame, exploring every micron that he could reach, watching for reactions to both what he was doing and his twin's movements. "I think you're just saying that but thanks. We usually do about a klik of this and then frag. If that."

Instead of speaking Mirage reached out with his field, entwining his with theirs to share what he was experiencing and how _good_ it felt, physically and emotionally.

"We'll be ready for another round before you're done at this rate," Sunstreaker chuckled slightly, not at all objecting to the idea.

"Perhaps, mmm, I can watch you together then?" Mirage gasped slightly when Sideswipe's hand slid along his open hip joint. "See what you have."

"That'd be good," Sideswipe said, exploring the hip further, dipping his fingers in and rubbing them along the smooth cabling inside. Sunstreaker leaned down and followed transformation seams with his glossa, engine rumbling with the enjoyment of this way to make their courted noble feel good. 

"A solid frag with you watching would be better than good," Sunstreaker purred. "Kept thinking about you the whole time when it was just us."

"Really?" Mirage moaned, shivering and pressing into their touches. "Wheels are sensitive."

"Yeah?" Sideswipe said, moving curiously down to one of the ankle wheels while Sunstreaker moved up to the ones behind his shoulders. Sideswipe dipped his fingers into the support spokes and stroked while Sunstreaker reached behind to run his fingers through what he could reach of the suspension systems. "And yeah. We did."

Pride uncurled through Mirage's field, but far stronger was a sense that he was preening at the words, deeply thrilled by the admission. It didn't take long for the preening to be overshadowed by pleasure though, as the twin's efforts were rewarded by a noticeable charge in Mirage's field.

They felt it and purred, just as proud as their lover was at their effect on him, as subtle as it was compared to the charge they could create in each other in moments just by touching their interfacing equipment. 

~This kind of takes forever,~ Sunstreaker said a while later, drawing kisses along the treads. 

~Yeah but it's different, could get used to it,~ Sideswipe said, half covering Mirage with his own frame, one hand deep in the spokes as he mouthed at the bumper, fully enjoying the soft moans and whimpers their attention was eliciting. 

~Hope we're doing it right,~ Sunstreaker said, and his twin could feel his frustration over the bond with the time. 

~Listen to him, we're doing it right,~ Sideswipe said, wringing a deep, needy moan from their lover and the first crackle of energy across Mirage's armor. ~There, he's getting closer.~

Sunstreaker hummed and reached around to the other shoulder, playing and tugging with the wires he could feel beneath the loosened armor. He wasn't sure about this method, and Sideswipe could feel it, but as long as Mirage was enjoying what they were doing he'd adjust to it. ~Looks nice,~ he said as another arch of blue static raced beneath plating and sparked where they touched.

~Sounds pretty good too, and his field...~ Sideswipe purred as they both felt Mirage begin to tip over the edge to where an overload was almost inevitable.

~His field is amazing,~ Sunstreaker purred back, and it _was_ , just the teek of it was enough to push his own charge back up and the promise of his twin after Mirage's overload just made it better. His mouth on one tire, one hand on the other, his second hand on Mirage's neck while Sideswipe paid attention to wheel, bumper, and hip, the twins synced their movements easily and moved with the pulses in the noble's field. 

Mirage's gasps grew higher, faster, _harder_ , and his back began to arch, pushing up off the berth into their touches, and the strangled cry that came with his overload cut off halfway through when the charge hit his vocalizer and shorted the entire system, leaving him caught in a silent scream. His field flared and thrashed in an effort to release some of the charge, slamming into the twins with all the subtlety of Astrotrain on a bender until Mirage slumped down, spent and dazed in a very happy way.

Sideswipe lunged up for a kiss, hand pressed to Mirage's face as their mouths clashed together, thrilled at having managed to overload him in such a foreign way. "That was so cool," he said, grinning down at him for a moment before turning that same grin at his twin. "That was really cool, right?" 

"It was fun," Sunstreaker admitted.

"It was amazing," Mirage smiled at them, still somewhat dazed as he reached up to coax Sunstreaker over for a kiss. "Still willing to allow me to watch you together?"

Sunstreaker's engine _revved_ and Sideswipe purred deeply, focusing on his twin with lust-darkened optics. 

~Sides--~ Sunstreaker said quickly. 

~I know,~ Sideswipe said. ~I'll top.~

Gratitude, relief, something as close to love as Sunstreaker was capable of feeling came over the bond as the yellow twin rolled onto his back. Sideswipe moved and came in over him, pressing him back in a familiar motion, frames that moved flawlessly together.

From Mirage's perspective it was crude, barely worthy of being called rutting as Sideswipe buried his spike in his brother and began to thrust, hard, fast and relentless. It didn't look like it was anything to enjoy, no skill at all and no care for Sunstreaker. Yet on the same berth, Mirage could teek them, and understood that whatever he was seeing worked very well for them both. He expected Sideswipe's pleasure, but he could teek Sunstreaker's being just as high and that there was _care_ between them.

Care, more than what Mirage recognized as outright love, but it ran _deep_ and more potent through their fields where they meshed than he'd felt with any other joining fields. 

Coding that was designed to understand the needs, wants, and motivations of a lover began to work and record, preparing Mirage for entering into this relationship. Unsure of what, if any, triad coding they might have inherited from Prowl, he held off on allowing the dormant trine coding that had made him so valuable as a second creation for a Seeker-descended House from taking hold. He had time to learn more later. 

For now, he was just enjoying feeling their pleasure, and feeling the _wonder-joy_ that was directed at him and expressing his joy at their desire for him and their affection for each other.

* * *

Mirage booted up well before the pair of heavy, powerful mechs he was sandwiched between and was quite content to remain there, enjoying their fields and the relative peace they displayed in recharge. He was debating between slipping away or waking them up to say goodbye before he was due to report to Jazz when he teeked Sunstreaker beginning to boot and decided on relaxing for a few more kliks while they came around on their own.

One of the first things he noticed was a focused, searching teek that stretched out around them, and when he extended his field in reply, it made the yellow frontliner go into a rapid boot sequence while his field turned suddenly and incredibly hostile. 

Mirage withdrew quickly, and answering from behind was Sideswipe's field. Moments later Sunstreaker was online and growling, blue optics flickering on and focusing on him. A shift of Sunstreaker's frame and Mirage immediately had his arm up in defense and his frame primed to escape and flee.

A red arm shot over his middle, grabbing Sunstreaker's wrist and holding his arm in place as Mirage took the opening to squirm out from between them and get clear, though instead of bolting he held still at the side of the berth, waiting. As he watched, Sideswipe was staring his twin down, focused, and there was no way their bond wasn't _alive_ with the struggle. 

And then it was over, and Sunstreaker's optics blinked and refocused, and he was the mech that Mirage was familiar with again. 

"...Sorry," he muttered, looking away.

Mirage shot Sideswipe a look and got a nod to approach. "It's all right, Sunstreaker," he kept his voice calm and level and carefully put a hand on the yellow warrior's shoulder. "No harm was done. I take it that your other berthmates do not get to recharge with you."

"Never," Sideswipe affirmed, and held his arm out for Mirage to come back between them, a hopeful flicker in his field. "We weren't expecting that, we're sorry. We'll set some boot times from now on so I'm online before Sunny is, until he's used to you."

"That sounds good," Mirage agreed and snuggled back between the pair. His first kiss went to Sideswipe, then he turned and nuzzled Sunstreaker hopefully. "No harm was done."

"At least I know you can take care of yourself," Sunstreaker said, his field settling with that assurance. 

"Like we'd be interested in someone who couldn't," Sideswipe snorted. 

"I am Special Operations and Jazz's heir," Mirage pointed out with a bit of a smile, his field warm that it pleased them.

"When do you need to be back?" Sunstreaker asked, because there was no way Jazz hadn't set a curfew for his spy.

"Within the joor. Enough time for a relaxed shower, but not much more," Mirage answered.

"Mm. How about a quick shower, and then we have something for you," Sideswipe said excitedly. 

"Oh yeah," Sunstreaker said, and sighed, arms going around Mirage's waist and holding him tightly. 

Sideswipe allowed another klik before he stood up and stretched. "Hey, Sunshine, you're all dull looking." 

Sunstreaker twitched, _glared_ at his twin, but was up in less than a quarter klik and heading into the washracks the Prime's Guard shared. It was one of the major perks of the job, along with the junior officer level of privacy.

It was a tight fit for three, and Mirage's presence made their wash routine a little tricky, but they managed to get out with enough time. 

"So..." Sunstreaker said, lifting something that Mirage couldn't see. "We found this thing..." 

"And we hope it isn't too weird," Sideswipe said. 

"You are spoiling me with gifts," Mirage purred, elated at the behavior he'd never expected of them. "Please show me."

"All right, but disclaimer, Wheeljack did the fixing up and programming. Ratchet _said_ he looked it over and cleared it safe for anyone, but ... if it goes boom, we told you," Sideswipe said as Sunstreaker turned around, holding out a turbofox in stasis lock. 

Mirage made a decidedly undignified squeal of delight and looked for all the world like a sparkling given his first energon sweet before he controlled himself.

~I think that qualifies as not too weird and he likes it,~ Sideswipe chuckled across the bond.

~Ya think?~ Sunstreaker humphed back, but he was just as pleased as his twin. "It'll imprint on the first voice and field it experiences when it's brought out of stasis," he added out loud as Mirage took the lump of brownish red fur with black, white and red trim. "Dunno what 'imprint' means exactly but it's supposed to do what you tell it."

"I had a pet turbofox as a sparkling. When programmed correctly, they're very affectionate and loyal," Mirage tried to contain his quiver of excitement. "May I activate it now? You don't have to be very far away."

Both twins nodded and stepped back several paces as Mirage went right for the control panel on the back of the creature's neck like he'd done it a million times before and swiftly entered a code for it. 

While the little cyberanimal was coming online Sideswipe handed Mirage a cube of energon. "That should last you for fuel for a while, I made high grade with the last double rations."

"Thank you," Mirage rewarded them with his most noble vocals and thick excitement in his field.

The turbofox lit small red optics and focused on the nearest being.

"I am Mirage. You are Memor," Mirage told the creature with a calm, even voice that spoke of being raised to command, using a Towers dialect.

Memor gave a churring yip and stood to walk up to him for a nuzzling pet that was happily given. "He's going to be a delightful companion."

"Companion?" Sunstreaker asked, looking at the turbofox as it turned to take in the occupants sharing the room with its master. 

"Whadda they do?" Sideswipe asked, kneeling down and holding his hand out. "Besides be there?"

"Memor, this is Sideswipe and that is Sunstreaker. They are courting me," Mirage introduced the pair, still in Towers dialect, though the twins understood their designations well enough, and the harmonics. He switched to Standard and smiled softly at the twins while Memor sniffed and teeked them. "They are a pet that is always with you, often highly trained or programmed for entertainment, protection and companionship. Once it is cleared with Jazz, it will follow me on missions."

"Wow," Sideswipe said, and reached around to pet the creature as Mirage came over. As Mirage's field greeted Sunstreaker's, Memor immediately gave an affectionate trilling sound and arched its back into Sideswipe's hand. "Hey there," Sideswipe grinned. "Glad we didn't decide to stuff you." 

"Does it understand Standard or does Wheeljack have to download that?" Sunstreaker asked.

The turbofox gave a yip and nod.

"That would be yes," Mirage translated and lightly urged Sunstreaker to pet the cyberanimal. "Comprehension of both dialects is somewhat limited. Its processors are not nearly as advanced as ours."

"Right, yeah," Sunstreaker said and knelt next to his twin and hesitantly made a movement that looked like it was poking the little creature more than petting it. It yipped at him before going back over to Sideswipe's scritching pets. Sunstreaker scowled at it. 

Sideswipe chuckled. "It won't smear your polish, Sunny."

"It won't bite you either," Mirage chuckled and knelt to stroke Memor's ears. "Just mirror what your brother is doing. Memor's friendly to you."

Sunstreaker huffed and reached over as his twin drew his hand back and mirrored the motions, petting Memor, who purred and rubbed against his hand just as happily as it had to Sideswipe. 

"There, see?" Sideswipe said. "Cute little thing."

Mirage smiled and reached over to tip Sideswipe's face towards him for a warm but chaste kiss, then stood to give the same to Sunstreaker. "You've improved my odds of coming home from missions with this gift. Thank you."

"Worth it, then," Sideswipe said. 

"Beyond worth it," Sunstreaker rumbled.

"I must go. Jazz is expecting me in two breems," Mirage said with reluctance. "I look forward to our next encounter."

The twins nodded in understanding, each kissed him, and watched the slender frame leave with the cheerful fluffy ball following behind. 

A moment of silence after the door shut, and then the twins looked at each other. They had no idea what the protocols were for this stage, and were suddenly realizing it all at once. 

~...Prowl?~

~Prowl.~

* * *

Mirage wasn't unaware of the bounce to his step as he walked into Jazz's office just a few kliks late, Memor at his side, feeling giddy and tingly in that delightfully unique way that came from a new courtship that was just starting to get into the physical stages. It was understood that second creations checked in after unchaperoned encounters until told otherwise, and Mirage expected nothing else from Jazz. It was a genuine relief on many occasions to have a commander that _understood_. Even though Jazz wasn't from the Towers, he was still a noble and he knew the rules and ways.

"You are late," Jazz actually managed to sound displeased, just before his optics locked onto the fluffy reddish brown thing rubbing against Mirage's leg. He simply looked at his subordinate adopted creation for an explanation for the turbofox, even though he knew fully well it was a gift from the twins.

"I am sorry," Mirage said, as he knelt to let the turbofox jump into his arms before rising. "I got distracted by making sure Memor was friendly to the twins." He grinned brightly at the mech who had come to be his adopted creator, a blessing after losing his carrier and sire. Never a replacement, never that, but more than he'd ever thought he would have again. "They had it repaired and reprogrammed to be tame for me."

"So a pet?" Jazz hummed, regarding the creature evenly.

"Companion," Mirage corrected, and switched to the Towers dialect. "This is Jazz, he is my..." He thought for a moment, and eventually combined two glyphs. "Commander-creator." 

Memor yipped in understanding, straining forward to teek Jazz.

With proper manners Jazz stepped around his desk and offered his hand, palm open, to the creature. Scent, teek and appearance were all logged and categorized.

"Then it is good that you have some time before your next expected mission," Jazz hummed. "It will need to be certified and checked that it has all needed programming for missions."

"Wheeljack and Ratchet did the coding," Mirage said, then thought more carefully about those designations as Memor climbed up onto his shoulders to curl against his neck. "...Maybe one of _our_ programmers."

"Agreed," Jazz reached out to ruffle the turbofox's ears and smiled when it trilled happily at him and focused his field on reading Mirage's. "I'll arrange it. Now ... how was your evening?"

Mirage thought for a moment, and the giddy joy only got clearer. "It was ... different. And excellent," he purred.

Jazz grinned, pleased at what he was teeking and willing to show it. "So they do have some education in pleasing a lover?" he purred playfully, his visor flashing with good humor.

"Ah...? Not ... _exactly?_ " Mirage said. "But they are eager, very eager, and I hadn't overloaded since before the Towers fell, so it didn't take very much. Although ... I'm pretty sure they thought it took forever."

Jazz gave a slightly manic grin. "I'm sure of it. They're very simple that way, as I expect you learned. Spikes are quick to build a charge. Just how much did you play?" He leaned back to rest his aft against his desk. "Details, my mech. Details."

Mirage grinned back, crossing his arms under his bumper and cocking his head and hip. "Details? Like ... jerking Sideswipe off and Sunstreaker rutting against me until he overloaded details?"

Jazz's visor flashed and his field flared with interest that his voice didn't express. "Yes, those kinds of details."

"Uh huh," Mirage said with a teasing, knowing smirk. " _You_ , boss, will just have to suffer in your curiosity." 

Jazz scowled at him. "You're cruel." 

"Those were the best details anyway," Mirage admitted after getting another few moments of smirking in. "The most amateur tactile I have ever experienced and watching them frag is the rest of it. But ... the _coding_ ," he purred. "You know?"

"Yes, I know," Jazz purred back, recalling all too clearly when it was happy and reached out to pet Memor some more. "It will only get better, so long as they continue to treat you so well."

Mirage smiled and nodded. He had some concerns about the behavior Sunstreaker had shown on two separate occasions, but right now, he just wanted to bask.


	3. Glitching

This deep in Iacon's main base, being on duty as the Prime's Guard meant long joors of following the mech around, standing in and outside officers' meetings and Prime's office, and generally being bored out of one's processors while remaining alert for any threat. It was not unlike sentry duty, only with less action. In the centuries they'd had the position, there hadn't been a single threat to the Prime in Iacon. Plenty when he was touring other bases or in battle, but nothing _here_.

Today was like all the others, following Prime from one meeting to another to another, about halfway through everything he had scheduled for the orn, when rounding a corner he ran right into a mech half his height. 

Sunstreaker growled, Sideswipe darted forward immediately, and Optimus just apologized while putting a calming hand on the yellow twin's shoulder. 

"I don't recognize him," Optimus remarked as they continued on their way, frowning slightly and rubbing absently at his abdomen. "I guess a new battalion is cycling through, I should make sure to..." He stopped walking, the hand on his side clenched, and then the giant mech toppled over. His guards caught him, lowered him to the ground even as Sideswipe was shouting at his brother to stop the mech who'd bumped into the Prime right where the injury seemed to have happened. He was on the comm to Ratchet in the same thought, slamming through a priority signal that would echo through all of medical and the rest of the command staff.

::Details.:: Prowl, Red Alert and Jazz were all on the comm line within a nanoklik.

::Ran into some mech we don't recognize, Sunny's following, it looks like something punctured his armor where they hit. He's holding that spot,:: Sideswipe said, relaying the same information and his visual feed to Ratchet as he looked over the abdomen. Others were running to the spot, forming a barrier around their Prime, and sirens were in the distance. 

::Get your twin to keep that mech alive!:: Jazz said. ::He isn't answering comms!::

::Right,:: Sideswipe said, and reached over the bond, trying to get through to his twin. A flicker of recognition, but everything else was _focus_ and _catch_. ::Slag, can anyone else go to him? I'm not leaving Prime.::

A moment's pause, then Jazz's terse, unhappy, ::Sending the closest agents.::

::On my way as well,:: Prowl added, though he restricted that comm to Sideswipe and Jazz.

Sideswipe nodded, pushed all that information as best he could to Sunstreaker in a steady stream, and concentrated on talking to his Prime, keeping him online and focused. 

* * *

Mirage received Jazz's comm in that same moment and immediately turned on heel, sprinting back through the halls, pushing mecha aside when they got in his way. As soon as he had a clear space wide enough, he dove forward onto his hands, transforming before he ever hit the ground. His orders were to keep a suspected assassin alive, no matter what, and his processor began to configure around that order. 

He spotted the streak of bright yellow bringing another mech down and transformed back, lunging for Sunstreaker and pulling him off his target before he could maul the now-unconscious mech. Utter insanity slammed into Mirage's field, ten times worse than the _danger-kill_ of the first time Sunstreaker had booted up next to him. He'd heard of it, everyone had heard of the twins' berserker nature. He even knew that for Sunstreaker it was a true medical glitch, though not all the events attributed to it were his glitch.

What mattered in this moment was that Mirage understood that Sunstreaker wasn't simply angry. The spy was going to have to stop a berserker frontliner several times his mass that was in the grip of a simple but vicious processor glitch.

The first thing Sunstreaker did was shake him off like he was a newly separated sparkling and dive back on the assassin, and Mirage slammed back into him a second time, pushing him off, grabbing for hands that had transformed into claws and trying to pin him. 

Optics locked on him, uncomprehending and wild, and then the focus in his field _shifted_ and Mirage felt something slam into his back, and it tore through his arm, and then Sunstreaker rolled, getting claws in his chest and twisting, wrenching the lighter mech's plating.

In an instant Mirage's priorities shifted from stopping Sunstreaker from killing the assassin to stopping him from killing Mirage himself, all without killing Sunstreaker in turn. That second caveat made it much harder.

Mirage gave everything over to combat protocols. He was light and lightly armored, but he was strong and of far higher construction than even his current opponent. Slender, razor sharp black claws tore into strategic cables on the yellow warrior's joints and neck, sliced through energon lines and used magnets just shy of weapon grade to scramble what was working of Sunstreaker's processors to throw his orientation off.

It made him roar and stumble, striking blindly, and one of the glancing blows finally caught Mirage's neck and Sunstreaker latched on, putting his momentum behind crashing Mirage to the ground beneath him, landing all of his weight from the fall over him. Even disoriented and dazed, in the midst of the glitch, nothing but _destroying_ his target remained, and every system was dedicated to tearing at Mirage, anything that Sunstreaker could reach.

Pinned, Mirage only had one defense and he pushed every joule he had into his magnets and focused on forcing Sunstreaker away.

Then the mech was off him, but from the screaming it wasn't from the magnetic push. Broken, decently mauled and badly disoriented, Mirage still had enough in him to get on his pedes and ready to close with Sunstreaker again.

But there was no need, he quickly realized. Prowl was holding Sunstreaker's arms back as Jazz forced magnets in around the yellow warrior's head before bringing a blow down into the center of his helm, knocking him immediately offline. That done, the SpecOps commander immediately turned to the suspected assassin to flip him onto his front and lock his wrists and ankles together in stasis cuffs, and two more agents had blasters pointed at him while a third dragged him away. 

And then Jazz was at Mirage's side, catching him as he realized there was no more danger and everything else faded into how badly he was hurt. He knew that Sunstreaker was even worse off. 

"The target," he rasped, because he had to hear it from Jazz before he could disengage completely.

"Functional and in custody," Jazz told him, his field expressing his pride at what Mirage had managed. Sure, steady hands began field repairs, crimping and patching lines until Jazz was shooed away by the medics that finally dropped him into empty, relieving stasis.

* * *

Mirage, at Jazz's noted protest but not against any official order not to, made his way through the main base, the first time he'd been out of SpecOps since the attempted assassination of their Prime. 

Jazz was busy hunting down the security breach and figuring out how to keep it from happening again, while others interrogated their newest prisoner, and a double team of medics worked nonstop on trying to stay ahead of the poison that was still corroding the Prime's fuel lines. What it was and how the Decepticons had gotten ahold of it was currently taking up the entire science department. 

Which left Mirage useless until something new was learned and he could be sent out to track and spy and find some answers. Though he was privately certain it had come from Shockwave, he was not inclined to voice that opinion. Darkmount was not a place one volunteered to go to. Yes, there was work to be done, intelligence to sift through, vorns of common room recordings to listen to, to see if they had missed something right under their noses. Right now, though ... he wanted to see the twins. 

He poked his head around the entrance to medbay. It seemed largely deserted, but there was a newly erected temporary wall that Mirage knew Optimus was behind. One of the few occupied berths in the main area held Sunstreaker, Sideswipe sitting at his side, recharging with his arms folded over his twin and his head resting in them. Mirage crept over, putting a hand on the red twin's shoulder. 

Sideswipe was instantly alert and twisted to his pedes in a defensive stance before any comprehension reached his slowly lighting optics.

"Hello," Mirage said, keeping his field calm and even. 

With a non-reactive field against his, Sideswipe finished booting, cycling his optics a couple times, and groaned before drawing his lover close and simply holding him.

"How is Sunstreaker?" Mirage asked as he relaxed in those powerful red arms and teeked much of the answer for himself.

"Field patched, not much else," Sideswipe sighed, and for once he wasn't resentful of the fact. "With all the attention on Prime they just made sure he wouldn't extinguish. The medic was nice enough to let me have access to some supplies to do more, but he probably won't move until after Prime does."

Mirage simply nodded, looking past Sideswipe's shoulder to see the damage he'd caused. "He glitched..." he said, offering it quietly and as close to an apology as he would be able to come. 

"I know," Sideswipe rested his chin lightly on Mirage's helm. "I felt it. I didn't know it was you for most of an orn. You don't look like you could give him that kind of mauling," he murmured with a hint of pride, approval and amazement.

"You know who my teacher was," Mirage said, tucking his head against Sideswipe's neck and settling there. "I wouldn't have lasted a whole lot longer, though. Those injuries are supposed to drop a mech and he just kept attacking." 

"Yeah, I know. We're built and wired different from most mecha. Been in death matches since our youngling upgrades," Sideswipe sighed. "It does more than make glitches. Our frames'll keep fighting long after our sparks are gone. Won't stop until there's nothing to fight, or the frame's so mangled it can't. That's what berserker mode means. It's not just being combat crazy." He held Mirage almost too tightly, shaking as he spoke of things he'd never wanted to speak of.

"Younglings in death matches?" Mirage asked, with careful harmonics that Sideswipe didn't need to answer. 

"Yeah, we were botnapped just after our youngling upgrades in the first big riots in Polyhex. Our first kill was that night," Sideswipe murmured. "Went from there to youngling fighting pits. Killed probably once a metacycle from then to mechlings, I think. Hard to tell time there. When we got too old for that they sold us to an arena in Kaon. Even when we were headliners and treated well, we were stilled owned. Then this blue and red Praxian showed up and bought us, had us freed. Said he knew about us and there was a place for us in the Autobots, if we wanted it."

Mirage nodded, digesting that information carefully. "He hasn't been online yet, has he?"

"No, and he won't until he's repaired," Sideswipe said. "That won't be until Prime's at least stabilized."

"Maybe I can get Jazz to clear him for the Ops medbay," Mirage said. "Especially if Prowl leans on him the right way."

It twisted Sideswipe's tanks a bit to be in debt to Jazz, but if it got his brother repaired.... "Please. I need him."

"I'll see what I can do," Mirage promised, and sent a non-urgent ping Prowl's way. If there was a way to get Sunstreaker into Ops medical, it was through Prowl and armed with the tactical strength that having one of the witnesses and a member of Prime's Guard repaired and online as soon as possible was only going to help with both coming closer to an answer and security. The aspects of kinship and need might help, but they wouldn't make his case.

* * *

Sunstreaker booted slowly, painfully, to the familiar aches and processor queue of having undergone heavy repairs. Someone had done quite a number on him, and it wasn't the damage his brother normally inflicted when they went too far sparring. The first field he felt was his twin's and he reached for it even as he reached back through his memories and found only the corrupted data files associated with his glitch taking hold. The last thing he remembered was being shot at by a hand held blaster from his target before tackling him. "What happened?" he asked even before his optics had come online.

"Main points: Prime's still in critical; no clue on the poison. The assassin's given up everything, not that he knew much. Jazz got a really weird look on his face at one of the designations involved, at least according to Mirage. Who is fine, by the way. All that damage? That was him. Our pretty little spy is one pit of a fighter," Sideswipe summered the status of their universe.

Every cable in Sunstreaker's body tensed and only Sideswipe's hand on his shoulder kept him from bolting upright before he caught onto the _Who is fine_ part of his brother's summary and settled, but didn't relax. His optics came online and he sought Sideswipe, and then went immediately to Mirage, speechless as he stared at him. _Pride-horror-guilt-apology-amazement_ shivered through his field as it reached out to their lover. 

"You were pretty set on ruining that assassin," Mirage said with a smile as he stepped forward and took Sunstreaker's hand. 

"I ... didn't want you to see me like that," Sunstreaker said. "I didn't want you to _fight_ me like that, I coulda--" He cut off quickly, looking around. "...Where are we?"

"SpecOps's medbay," Mirage's harmonics and field were focused on soothing his lover. "We had the medical resources the main one doesn't at the moment." He reached out to caress the side of Sunstreaker's face, then along a helm vent. "That is part of who you are. You do not need to hide it from me."

Sunstreaker just pressed into the stroking fingers, focusing on the fact that Mirage had _held his own_ long enough to survive him attacking, and that he was alive and repaired. "Can we get outta here?" he asked after a little while of enjoying the petting. "Hate medbays." 

"Yeah. But both other teams have been guarding Prime nonstop," Sideswipe said. "Once you're up we'll have to pick up a shift for one of them at the next changeover. Gives us about five joors if you want to leave now."

"We can spend it in my quarters..." Mirage offered cautiously. "My berth is large enough for three now."

That got him startled, pleased looks from both twins as they nodded quickly, and the medical officer on duty was called over to give Sunstreaker a quick diagnostic and a test of the repaired joints before they were released. 

"Man, whaddya hafta do to get private digs like his?" Sideswipe asked as they walked towards Mirage's quarters. 

Sunstreaker snorted. "Work for Jazz." 

"...Oh yeah." 

"It is more than working for him," Mirage said softly as he palmed access to his door. "SpecOps is as much a caste as nobility was. The difference is that this caste is one most volunteer for, rather than being created into."

As soon as the door slid open Memor uncurled from where it was resting on the berth, lifting its head when the light hit him and then immediately bounding to Mirage, greeting him with an affectionate nuzzle and a soft whine of worry and protest for how long its master had been away. Mirage knelt down to pet the turbofox and scratch around behind its perked ears before going to the berth, drawing both twins behind him.

"I'm sorry Memor," Mirage trilled at his pet. "I was in medbay."

The twins settled on either side of the spy, curled around him with their arms under his head, each touching the other's helm while their other hands rested on Mirage's frame.

"...What did they do to you?" Mirage asked after a little while. "In the youngling pits. Is that where it started?"

"Before that," Sunstreaker managed. He leaned heavily on the bond and his brother just to manage what little he could. "They grabbed three of us, said they could only use two so if one of us wasn't deactivated in five kliks they'd shoot one at random."

"I kinda knew when it was over that there'd always been something wrong with us," Sideswipe picked up. "No undamaged youngling knows how to kill. We tore him apart."

"Then we went to the pits," Sunstreaker finished. "We learned how to fight by surviving. Learned to kill for what we needed."

"Learned to behave to keep the other safe," Sideswipe added. "Handlers learned quick that neither of us was afraid of punishment or anything, but we'd behave quick if you threatened the other. We were probably sparked berserkers, but the glitch, the inability to control when it kicked in, that came from helm damage. At least that's what Ratchet said. We took plenty of that over the vorns. It probably wasn't just one hit, but a buildup. A lot of crowds loved it."

"Handlers, not so much," Sunstreaker actually chuckled as he stroked Mirage's side. "It's hard to control something that'll keep fighting after it's dead."

Outwardly, Mirage's field stayed calm and steady, but inwardly he shuddered with horror. His youth had been spent playing with exotic crystal cats and visiting other cities and planets, learning how to set up an estate with proper interior design techniques, host parties, mix energon concoctions, and socializing with his age-mates while hunting and falconing. The most traumatic thing he'd ever experienced before Storm Front's deactivation had been the peaceful deactivation of his favorite turbohound. 

"You both have that same glitch?" he asked, twisting to look at Sideswipe. "I thought it was just Sunstreaker." 

"His engages easier," Sideswipe said, shaking his head. "I've never been pushed so far it starts on its own, so I've only gone berserker intentionally, but Ratchet said the potential is there. Sunny's got a more complicated processor, I guess. More systems made it more vulnerable or something." 

"I think the first time it showed was when that sparkling pounced on you, Sides, remember?" Sunstreaker said, smiling slightly at the vague, partial memory. "I wanted to punch his stupid face in and Prowl made me stand in time out." 

Sideswipe chuckled. "Yeah, I remember. Before..." He hesitated. "Well, just, before." He pressed his face to Mirage's helm and sighed. "Sorry. You picked a real pair of winners."

"Yes, I did," Mirage purred softly, his field backing up that he meant it in the best way possible, that he did think they were winners, and his attachment to them something he was proud of. He gently shifted to kiss Sideswipe, then to give the same kiss to Sunstreaker. "It still amazes me that you want me."

Sideswipe pushed himself up on one elbow and they both just _stared_ at him for a long moment, mouths dropping open. 

"Of course we _want_ you," Sideswipe said. "You're ... _gorgeous_ and smart and you can do amazing things with a rifle and I _don't_ mean that as a dirty joke for once in my life." 

"You keep your finish in good shape," Sunstreaker purred deeply, nuzzling against him. "You can fight." 

"You put up with us. Most mecha don't like us around. And we're just kind of..." 

"Uncultured slobs," the yellow twin finished.

Mirage gave them both a bemused look. "And I am a stuck up noble who runs rather than fights, skulks around invisible, spies on everyone, does nothing to earn his keep and insists that nobility still makes a difference. I believe we have all been called very unflattering things by fellow Autobots."

Sunstreaker growled softly, grip around Mirage's waist tightening. "Slaggers." 

"Guess it helps that we have that coding we do," Sideswipe mused, settling back down. "That was part of Prowl's theory, at least." 

"It definitely helped my ability to accept you," Mirage snuggled close. "Though I found you both desirable well before I knew you were first creations."

"And we've met way worse nobles," Sunstreaker said. "You're kinda mild compared to some." 

"That I cannot debate," Mirage laughed softly. "The worst of my noble airs are an act that you saw through."

"Glad you got out of that world before it could ruin you," Sunstreaker rumbled, happy curled around his lover and against his brother.

Mirage knew what the warrior meant. He also knew it wasn't true. It hurt in a way that comments by commoners couldn't, because they _weren't_ commoners, no matter what they thought of themselves as. They were first creation nobles, the first creations of Mirage's House Lord. He kept it all to himself, however. It wasn't his place to feel slighted by their comments, so he buried it and snuggled into the warmth and the fact that they'd all survived another orn.


	4. Broken Seals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic gang-rape first time in here.

Mirage forced his ventilations to settle and concentrated on pulling in his field as he crawled into a spot barely large enough to contort himself into and tuck a completely silent Memor in a spot by his helm. A simple scouting mission to confirm that Flatline was at this facility so he could be captured and punished for the poison that had nearly deactivated the Prime had turned into a nightmare. Nothing hinted that the Decepticon command was visiting, which meant three times as many mecha on base as there should be, a lot more security and way too many symbiots. If he could keep his EM disruptor running, he might just make it out. As it stood....

"Memor, you need to fetch help," he ordered as he slipped a message capsule into a hidden compartment in the turbofox. If the cyberanimal was caught, any skilled hacker could get into its systems. An actual physical message was much safer. 

Memor's field flashed distress, but as soon as the coast was clear, it scurried out of the hiding spot and into a ventilation shaft too small even for Ravage to move through.

That done, Mirage settled in and began watching the time and for any possible opening, but with the kind of traffic that was moving through-- _dangerous_ traffic--the chances of that were slim. He'd already had his disruptor on for longer than was recommended and it was starting to drain at him, but he could hold it for three times this if he needed to. 

The problem was Soundwave. Soundwave would be able to sense _something_ , even if he couldn't sense what, but there wouldn't be getting away after that. 

So he waited, and hoped. 

And when his final energy reserves ran out, he was caught. 

When he booted, he was chained upright and looking at Soundwave himself. A flick of his field told him he was in bindings enhanced with energy fields, nothing he could break through. His disruptor was gone--probably taken to Shockwave for a reverse engineering attempt that would fail without a mech that had Mirage's spark gift to be enhanced--and his energy levels were just enough to keep him online. He was hooked up to a drip and a monitor that would keep him at that level. 

"Designation: Mirage, Autobot, spy, second in command to Jazz," Soundwave stated. It wasn't a question.

Mirage calmly looked back and focused on his firewalls. There was no purpose in talking.

"Silence: expected," Soundwave said, turning back to a set-up of hacking and torture tools. "Mirage: contains valuable intelligence. Soundwave: will extract. Resistance: expected. Cooperation: will earn rewards."

Mirage had to give Soundwave credit for following a solid, if simple interrogation procedure. The first round was well underway with this. Well, Soundwave was in for a surprise. _Nothing_ could break what Mirage had been crafted into by Jazz, Prowl and SpecOps training.

He held onto that truth and settled himself to endure.

He'd lost track of the time somewhere along the way, with all of his focus going towards maintaining his firewalls. Soundwave had attempted to hack him while he was in a forced stasis and been repelled by the best of what Autobot Command had created for every SpecOps agent, and he was dimly aware of a background virus attempting to duplicate the code. 

It wasn't working, but it _hurt_. 

He couldn't say he'd never been in this much pain before--Jazz himself had put him through worse than this--but the knowledge that this pain might end in deactivation somehow made it more ... bleak. 

So when Soundwave abruptly stopped his work some orns later, Mirage couldn't help but wonder if the host was going to offline him, but he knew Soundwave wasn't the stopping type. Deactivation at his hands would only come after vorns of effort, not orns, and was much more likely to involve a complete processor wipe and reprogramming than a straight up kill.

Instead, Soundwave simply stood up and walked towards the door without a word. When it opened, Mirage saw another mech waiting for him, and this face was one he'd had coded into his processor before leaving. 

That was Flatline. 

Soundwave stopped, looked at him, and then walked past silently, leaving the door open.

This was not good.

Mirage steeled himself for a round of true torture, intent only to hurt and humiliate rather than extract information.

"Well, well," the Con medic said in a voice that had culture behind it that Mirage was not expecting. "I heard it was true but I had to see it to believe it. The Autobot noble spy himself." He walked over to the station Soundwave was set up at, unbothered by the yellow optics that stayed fixed on him. "From these readings I would say ... second creation?"

Mirage refused to answer, intent on giving this mech no more than he'd given Soundwave. Not that Flatline had really asked a question. They both knew that the readings were clear enough to anyone who knew what it meant.

"So let's see then," Flatline said, turning towards him, holding a syringe and a small smile. "Been a while since I could really play with someone, so long as I don't kill you. I wonder, how _traditional_ are you?" He walked forward, hand going down to Mirage's pelvis, stroking over the plating experimentally.

Mirage couldn't help the angry growl of his engine or the way he pulled away fractionally, but he kept his vocalizer muted.

" _Very_ traditional," Flatline said, and his field began to teek of eagerness, his engines starting to hum. " _Oh_ yes, you'll do nicely," he shivered, and brought the syringe up to Mirage's neck, injecting it into a primary fuel line.

The substance _burned_ as it moved through Mirage's lines, and while the discomfort after the initial heat was nothing too significant, the way it made his sensor net tingle was unsettling.

Flatline hummed, and now the tint of his field was nothing short of _giddy_ as he knelt down and began rub at Mirage's spike cover. "That wonderful little concoction is of my own design," he purred. "It an AI biomechanoid virus that causes pain sensation to give a pleasure response while dulling your ability to actually feel that pleasure. You still overload, though. Overload from pain," he purred, and reached down to the ankle wheel, slamming his fist right into the spokes.

Mirage gasped and jerked, assaulted by the expected pain and the very unexpected pleasure response to it. It was very much like the masochism protocols, but not quite so agreeable to his processors. _This_ was purely physical, while that was under his control.

"Excellent," Flatline said, and settled there on the ground, pulling out a pair of pliers and grabbing one of the spokes, wrenching it backwards. He went around, bending each one out and twisting them until they were mangled, before reaching around behind the wheel with a torch and melting through the connection points. 

When enough of the joint was gone, he grabbed the wheel in claws, puncturing through the surface, before yanking back and tearing the entire thing off, and then lifted it and _slammed_ the extended, jagged mess of metal from the spokes into Mirage's spike cover.

 _That_ earned a silent scream from the noble and he pulled back as much as pressed his hips forward in the mass of conflicting signals. Just that he could be made to respond like this was horrifying, but he refused to let himself think about that. He focused on the pain that lay under the pleasure and tried to steel himself for what was coming when he switched his personal masochism protocols on.

 _Heat_ spread through him, starting from the injuries and rushing up, sweeping over the effects from the virus, but they were quickly on its tail, biting pain and charge and Flatline looked up curiously as he continued to twist and tear before ripping the tire sideways, bringing the cover away with it. 

The virus and the protocols warred for control, leading to a blinding, flickering, rapid changeover from the pain-heat-pleasure to an arousal charge that _hurt_ as it swept through his lines.

Caught in it all, Mirage _did_ scream as an overload coiled through his frame in an explosion utterly unlike the sweet bliss that it was supposed to be.

When he came down from it, panting, aching, sore from the amount of unfiltered current that had rammed through his frame, he felt Flatline's claws tracing his spike housing in slow, gentle circles and turned the masochism protocols off to allow the virus uncontested control of his sensor net. "Come now," the medic coaxed. "No need to be shy. If you don't make me force you it'll hurt less." 

Mirage simply stared at him, his processors unable to comprehend how this mech _didn't_ understand the idea that he _could not do that_. His seals were for his bonded, not himself.

Flatline looked back, shrugged, and stood, going back over to Soundwave's collection of instruments, rifling through the perfectly ordered equipment before selecting something and coming back. 

Charge cables, primitive, useless with modern technology that could easily transfer energy from one mecha to another over internal wiring and hook-ups, these were designed to simply _jolt_ energy over into a frame, uncontrolled and frequently damaging, a last resort, even when they'd been in regular use. One end was hooked into a terminal while the clamps on the split end latched down around his bumper and his hip. Flatline flipped a switch, sending the current rocketing over and through, electrifying his armor.

Mirage did scream this time, and many more times. It wasn't worth the effort to keep his vocalizer muted for this. This information was well known to anyone who looked at him, much less teeked him.

Pure agony.

It had the blessed effect of hazing Mirage's processors at this level when combined with the arousal charge. He was sure he put on a good show, but was only dimly aware of it.

When it ended, when it _finally_ ended, Flatline unclamped the cables, humming happily to himself and scraping over the hot metal with the grating edges, and then chose two new points on Mirage's frame. Pelvic plating was pried back with a brutal bar, and the other end fitted to his hip, and when the flip went back on, the currents cracked and slammed into each other right in his spike housing.

This time Mirage was doubly grateful for how hazy the pain-pleasure made him as he screamed and twisted, thrashing as his frame was assaulted unrelentingly. He _knew_ his spike was pressurizing and pressing against the seal. He knew the seal would break soon. He simply couldn't put it in any context that mattered while this was all happening.

Even so, the scream that escaped him with the pain of that tearing was as much a sob as it was of the pending overload shaking his frame. Flatline's triumphant laughter rang behind the entire thing and a hand wrapped around him, painfully tight, and jerked up and down in rapid, uneven strokes. 

Mirage did sob now, in pain as much from the objection of protocols as from the charge jarring him from the cables still funneling it directly into his pelvic girdle. The more direct pleasure of the hand on his previously untouched equipment made him keen as his arousal charge shot up faster than he could comprehend until it released with the action of a small cycling pump deep inside him and a new sensation, pure, processor-whiting pleasure blanketed Mirage's awareness from the rush of the thick, energy-rich fluid flowing across the multitude of pleasure sensors along the tube in the center of his spike.

Flatline moved away, aimed the spike so that every drop fell on the floor, rubbing and squeezing to coax every last bit out that he could, smirking the entire time. 

"I had a boss once, obsessed with being the first to touch a mech," he said. "Think I get it now. Oh and you're still hard," he said as he continued stroking, as though it was a surprise to him. "Didn't think you'd enjoy yourself that much."

Mirage's optics were glazed as he jerked from the charge still coursing through his frame from the cables, unable to comprehend the words being said and not particularly caring.

He _hurt_.

"Oh, shh-sh-sh," Flatline said, reaching up and putting a finger over Mirage's lips. "I'll make it better." He was gone for long enough to turn the charge off and unhook the cables, and then he was back to stroking the spike, and this time the touch was gentle and pleasuring. "Yes," he whispered, and his voice was odd, twisted. "Yes, I'll make it _all_ better."

Mirage heard the soft click of a cover unlatching, and then sliding back, and then Flatline was hooking a leg around his waist and then there was _warmth_ being lowered down onto his tip, heat that he'd never felt before, not like this. It took him much of a klik to focus his optics and processor enough to comprehend the physics of what he was seeing. He wasn't ignorant of what penetrative interfacing was, not even before he'd watched the twins together, but he'd never applied it to himself in more than a distant abstract.

As dazed as he was, watching _and feeling_ his spike -- _his spike_ \-- disappear into another's frame was a mixture of erotic and intensely disturbing. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. That wasn't the right frame. This wasn't the right place or time.

All Mirage could really think of was gratitude that while this made him useless for a bonding contract, it wouldn't lessen his usefulness to Jazz as an agent.

Bonding contract....

Mirage sobbed at the loss. The twins wouldn't want him now, he wasn't _worthy_ of bonding to anyone now.

Flatline rode him with careful, deceptive gentleness, squeezing in and out around his spike in an easy, cycling rhythm that changed as the medic moved his hips. "There, see?" he soothed over the sobs. "I knew you would enjoy this. Come on, now, show me how _good_ that feels for you, noble. First interface is one you'll never get back, the way it feels to have another around you like this, sensors you've never felt before rubbing through me." The pace increased, more now as he spoke. " _Show me_ how good it feels."

To his absolute horror, Mirage felt his hips begin to move, awkward and ill-timed, but trying to thrust. His frame wanted this, even if _he_ didn't, and golden optics brightened in shock.

Flatline cackled at him, gripping his shoulders as he matched the shallow pushes with his hips and the pulsing of his lining. "There you go. Now you can't say you didn't want it, can you?" He sneered in Mirage's face until the pace was rapid and pounding and they were both panting. 

And it only took a matter of kliks. Not joors, or groons, or even breems for Mirage to feel his frame start to shudder and seize, but _kliks_. What was _wrong_ with him? His Lord had been careful not to influence his interfacing protocols, so this must be _him_. Something had always been wrong with him. This wasn't even a mech he knew, much less liked. This wasn't anyone he should have responded to, so why was he?

Mirage's keen of distress was muted, but he could do little about his field at this range, and then the blessing of the whiteout that was a strong overload roared through him and he no longer had to think.

When it ended, when Flatline had stepped back and left him just hanging there, still extended, still dripping, as the charge finally faded, he found himself just staring down at it, and he couldn't feel any kind of connection with the _thing_ jutting from between his legs. 

"Not awful for a first timer," Flatline remarked casually, cleaning himself off. "Though honestly I've had better. Seems to be a natural thing for most, possibly you were damaged in the war?" A signal chimed. "I think that must be Soundwave on his way back, but if it is, don't worry, I'll be around later."

The only part of that statement that even reached Mirage was the telepath's designation and that locked him down. Everything was neatly packed away to deal with later, which included remembering to retract his spike once he found that control. His processors far more clear than they had been since Soundwave had left, Mirage understood the point of this. Soundwave wouldn't debase himself by doing this, but he wasn't above allowing others to rattle a prisoner with it.

Flatline hummed to himself a bit more as he reset the equipment to its former order, finishing as the door opened, but when Mirage looked up, it wasn't Soundwave. 

It was a pair of mecha, fighters probably, judging from their size and weaponry, standing shoulder to shoulder with each other and smirking at Mirage. 

"The rumor true, Flatline?" one of them rumbled. 

"Ah--Runamuck! Runabout!" Flatline said, and he sounded _more_ that pleased. "What rumor would that be?" 

"Soundwave's lettin' ya play wit' th' prisoner," the other said, looking hungrily at Mirage. 

"And you two are bored and that sounds fun, is that the way of it?" Flatline asked. 

They looked at each other, then back at him, shrugging in identical movements. "Th' Wave suggested we might come down." 

Flatline cocked his head at them, optics narrowed. "Why?" 

They just shrugged again.

Mirage, at least, believed them when they said they were clueless on the why, but he had a very strong suspicion that they wouldn't be content to defile his spike. It was strange, that the thought wasn't as horrifying as it should be, but Mirage was sure it was his second creation protocols, backed up by SpecOps ones, following Jazz's very simple rules.

First, give up nothing of value.

Second, stay alive.

Third, get out if you can.

With one seal gone, the other soon to be, Mirage was already reordering his priority tree to push them far enough down that he could survive this and the waiting that came afterwards.

Flatline was telling them about his virus with a tone to his voice like he was talking about a creation instead of a horrifying drug, and the two were looking bored, when the black one of them interrupted. "Can we let 'im loose?" 

Flatline looked startled. "Absolutely not. He's SpecOps." 

They sulked together, and there was something uncanny about how closely every movement they made was a mimic. "'S better when y'beat 'em down first," the same one muttered.

"You can lower him, that is all," Flatline said. "Nothing comes untied. Honestly." He looked at the one that had asked. "You and your twin are two of the most moronic mecha in the entire Decepticon ranks."

Twins?

Mirage managed to hide his mixture of surprise and horror. Did they know he was promised to twins? Soundwave ... it was possible, and he had sent this pair. He managed to hold back the whimper and struggled to blank himself, detach from his frame, in preparation for what was to come.

Flatline finished his lecture and approached with another syringe, injecting a second dose into Mirage's lines. "Just don't kill him or let him escape, or it's Soundwave you'll answer to. Got it?" 

"Got it," they said in unison, grinning nastily at Mirage before they lowered him down onto the floor, just so he was almost laying flat, with his arms and shoulders still yanked up into the air.

Mirage watched them, not daring to make a sound but unable to turn his optics off the scene.

They towered over him, optics roving up and down over his frame for a few moments, before kneeling while the black one grabbed his leg and yanked back, wrenching the ball joint painfully, and the other grabbed at his valve cover and tried to crumple it in his hand. It was better material than he'd been expecting, but with a growl, some determined claws, and another hard _yank_ the piece came free, and then fingers pressed at his seal--and immediately pulled away. 

"What the--" the white mech said, looking at Flatline. "What is this?" 

Flatline snorted. "It's a seal, moron." 

"He still has _seals?_ " 

A smirk. "Only one now." 

The black twin snickered. "Lame. No one has seals anymore. No point in saving them."

"Maybe he likes having them broken," the white shrugged and poked at the membrane, making Mirage try to pull away.

"Oh no, he's not that type. You'll be the first to get in there, though far from the last," Flatline snickered. "Your spike'll go through easy. At least on you."

The black twin suddenly shoved his brother. "Hey, I was the one who said we should come down here, I wanna break it!" 

"Frag off, Runabout," the white one snarled back. "I saw it first!" 

"Oh come on, _please?_ " Runabout whined. 

"You'll still feel it," Runamuck said, rolling his optics and extending his spike into his hand. "Wait yer stupid turn." 

Runabout sulked, but relented, watching with bright optics as his brother lined his spike up with the seal and pushed lightly at it, not intending to break yet. "Heh," he laughed. "Feels weird. Looks all tiny n' stuff."

"Which means it'll feel all the better when you're inside him," Flatline smirked, reveling in the horrified denial that Mirage was exuding. "Tight, hot and slick if my concoction has done its job."

Mirage bit back the plea for them to stop, to leave him with that seal, but he managed to keep quiet. It would only encourage them, he was sure of that much.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

This was supposed to be joyful. This seal was for _his_ twins!

"This some kinda Autobot thing?" the black one rumbled, watching his brother with interest. 

"No, it's a noble thing," Flatline said. "Second creations keep them to increase their worth for their bondeds." He smiled coldly down at Mirage. "As I understand it, their worth is directly tied to them." 

The big-framed fighters chuckled together, Runabout pulling the leg even further back, and his twin started to press. The seal, cold and rigid, nothing to warm or soften or soothe the breaking, began to give, painfully and slowly. 

"Go on, go on!" Runabout urged Runamuck on as the pain, far more emotional than physical, began to crackle through Mirage's field, expressing what he refused to give voice to.

Despite his best efforts, his _desire_ to have this hurt, protocols to help him survive overrode his will and forced lubricant to ooze into the soon-to-be-breeched passage to ease the passage of what would soon enter it.

Hate flared briefly in Mirage, but not hate of what these mecha were doing, but at the lack of control he had over his own automatic functions. He'd been trained better than this. He _was_ better than this. And yet he still keened in pain and loss when the seal final tore, taking the last thing that marked him as better than a buymecha.

The last thing that he could give to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. He didn't have worth, or title, or an estate to run for them, but he'd had _himself_ and now he didn't even have that. He stared at the ceiling in dull, blank despair, and the _hurt_ from the spike, as much as it stretched, still catching on the jagged tear of the seal, greedily latched onto the virus to push his charge up. 

"Heh, he _is_ hot and tight," Runamuck grunted. "Could get used to something like that." 

"Go faster!" Runabout said. 

"Wait yer turn, moron!" the white one snarled. "I wanna take him slow. Make him feel it." 

"He seems receptive," Flatline said, smirking, and traced his claws around the spike housing to make Mirage shudder.

Something inside the noble cracked, broke, and his meta, his second creation programming latched onto the only thing he had left: his value to his Lord. Quiet and savage, Mirage's coding tore through him, unrelenting and unforgiving, to strip all desire to be bonded from him, suppress what it couldn't and pushed the rules his Lord had set for him to the fore.

_Give them nothing of value._

_Survive_.

When Mirage's golden optics flickered on, it was to a new look at the mech between his legs. Interfacing was meant to be pleasurable. If he found it pleasurable and took no shame in that, it could take something back.

He unlocked his vocalizer and relaxed his grip on his field and sank into the pleasure of the act and the virus.

He knew he would pay for it later. He knew he would hate himself for this if he escaped, the way he was slicking and moaning, but he could tell he was robbing Flatline of his prime enjoyment in the act, and in the current moment, it was worth it just for that. 

The twins traded him back and forth, burying into him over and over, spilling into him until his valve was coated and there was a puddle beneath his hips, and then Soundwave came back, and the torture began again.

* * *

Mirage watched, and waited, and didn't give a thing up, and survived. Orn after orn he survived, he refused to give the Decepticons his pain or his intel, refused to allow the sadists among them the satisfaction of hearing his screams, learned how to just spread his legs and hold still and stare past their shoulders. 

It made most of them bored with him, but there were plenty who still stopped in for a quick, free frag with a noble, just to say they had. It became the thing to do among the bored lower ranks on their off shifts. 

He was being moved soon. He knew that much. He was exhausted, didn't have the processor or physical strength to devise any way of escaping, but he never stopped watching for one. 

Soundwave had left, preparing him to be transferred, to Darkmount, Mirage suspected, and he was being held in a paralysis lock from a cruel device clamped in around his helm. He could still see, think, feel, but he couldn't move. All he had was waiting, and trying not to think about what was coming. 

The door opened, and Mirage stared, wondering if he was glitching when the lithe, matte black mech strolled in, as casual as anything. 

"Hey, youngster," Whiplash said, going straight to Mirage. "Sorry about this." He jumped up, climbing up the noble's frame to get up to the stasis cuffs he was hanging from, fiddling with the lock until they released. Mirage dropped, Whiplash landed on his pedes, and started working on the paralysis lock. "Just another klik here," he said, gruff. The lock came off, dropped to the floor. "There we go, kiddo. Can you walk?" 

"No energy, shattered hips, left pede useless," Mirage gave the most succinct response he could as he finally recognized the mech and hope, terrible, spark-crushing _hope_ , surged up inside him.

Whiplash nodded and pressed a cube into Mirage's hands. "That's gonna burn like Pit but we have to move fast." 

"--My disruptor?" Mirage asked as he downed the caustic jet fuel without complaint or sign that it was any less pleasant than top quality high grade. 

"Jazz," was all Whiplash said in explanation as he pulled something that looked like a blaster out of subspace, jammed it into Mirage's left hip, and pulled the trigger. A burning, viscous resin came out, coating the inside and surrounding the shattered ball. "Keep the joint moving while that sets," Whiplash said before moving to the next one. Mirage obeyed and Whiplash went to look at his pede, pulled an iron rod out, and used the resin to stick it to the inside of his leg as something to support his weight. "Don't have to walk far," he said. "Just far enough."

"I'll manage," Mirage said the only thing he could. Whether or not he was capable of it, he'd manage. With the resin set, he had a much better sense of how long it would last and used the wall and Whiplash to stand. He took part of a klik to test his balance and ensure that those were all the emergency repairs he needed, and nodded. "Lead the way."

Whiplash nodded once and then Mirage was following a small, darting shadow as they moved out into the hallway. Alarms were going off now, and even though a few Cons were running by, none of them stopped to even glance at them where they were ducking along the side. 

Then Whiplash turned, jumped, and vanished into the ceiling. Mirage looked up and a different set of hands reached down for him. He grabbed hold and was pulled up, and found his disruptor being pushed into his hands, looking into Jazz's visor. 

"Put that on, turn it on, go out the main gate," Jazz said, looking him up and down. "Don't worry about being teeked, they've got bigger problems than you now. Bee is waiting for you, here," he plugged into Mirage's wrist and downloaded a map. "We'll meet you there. Don't stop for _anything_." 

"Yes, sir," Mirage nodded, waited only long enough for his disruptor to integrate into his systems and turned it on. He was moving, following the map and orders with a relief that had nothing to do with escaping. His Lord valued him enough to come. Whatever that value was of, Mirage embraced it and the way it made movement easier even as the resin began to break down. He'd make it out and a ways further, but all he could think of outside of _follow the directions, don't run into things_ was how light and bright his spark felt to have his Lord speak to him.

Bumblebee all but slammed into him at the meeting point, having moved in the last moment into Mirage's path without realizing what was running right for him.

"Whoa!" Bumblebee said, and reached out automatically as Mirage shimmered back into visibility, stretching up to help support him. "Sorry about that! Can you transform?"

Mirage shook his head. 

"That's all right," Bumblebee said cheerfully, and even though he was close to optic level with Mirage's pelvis and the missing spike and valve covers, his focus never shifted away from Mirage's face and nothing about his field indicated that he noticed, even though he had to have noticed. "Jazz figured so. He'll be here soon. Shuttle's waiting for us not far from here. How are ya, been better?" 

"Significantly so," Mirage admitted without shame as he forced his systems to cool some from the escape run. "I still function. The rest can be dealt with."

Yes, _dealt_ with, for not everything could be repaired. "How long have I been in there?" Mirage asked, more to pass time than actually caring. He _needed_ the friendly voice to keep from slipping back and believing this was an hallucination or trap. It would be a while before he would take silence well again.

"Mm, it's been almost two decaorns," Bumblebee said, like he was talking about the last time he'd been to the theater. "We can't be sure exactly of the date you were caught, but you went in 56 orns ago."

Mirage inclined his helm, accepting it and what he had been through in those orns. He knew of the four mecha he knew were here, he was the last to have faced Decepticon imprisonment and Soundwave's attentions. He was ready to ask another random question when the sound of pedefall drew their attention, right before a series of explosions deep within the base made it clear why there weren't Decepticons after them.

"Transforming?" Jazz asked as he came over the ridge. 

"Nada," Bumblebee said. "'Raj isn't feeling real hot." 

Whiplash glanced over his shoulder at the base, then transformed into his sleek, two-wheeled alt mode. "We need to move." 

Jazz transformed next to Mirage. "Get on, hold on tight. We're going fast." 

"Yes sir," Mirage nodded and complied, his hands gripping the gap Jazz created between his front end armor and door to for him to get his fingers into. It was not the first time Mirage had gotten a ride like this, but they were rare and always unpleasant.

Jazz took off, Whiplash and Bumblebee flanking him, and they all drove out into the wastelands surrounding the base. 

::Mirage,:: Jazz said after a few breems. ::Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are the guards at the shuttle. I'm going to keep them confined to the front. You'll be in the back with Iatr.:: It wasn't a question, or anything open for discussion. 

::Yes sir,:: Mirage responded, relieved to avoid that particular encounter until he didn't look _quite_ this battered. Part of him relaxed, even as another part tensed at the inevitable revelation he would have to make. He wasn't looking forward to it, nor would he think about just what threats his Lord would employ to keep the twins ... his twins ... from seeing him like this.

When they reached the shuttle, Mirage gingerly climbed off and stood back so Jazz could transform into root mode. Immediately arms were around him, holding him _so_ tightly, and this close Mirage could teek everything that Jazz hadn't let out into his field before. 

And then he was gone, vanished into the shuttle, and Mirage waited. 

"How's the resin?" Whiplash asked.

"Degraded 31%," Mirage answered the mech that had once ranked his Lord Jazz.

"Oh, 'Lash, _really?_ " Bumblebee complained, but it was good-natured. "Now we have to listen to cursing the whole way home. You know how much they hate that stuff."

The bay door of the shuttle opened. "Resin?" a new voice groaned. The voice of the senior field medic in SpecOps, who was gesturing that it was okay for them to enter.

"Yes, Iatr," Mirage responded and carefully walked to him, then into the hold.

Yelling could be heard beyond the barrier separating the cargo hold from the passenger area, but everyone pretended like they couldn't hear it and Mirage lay down on the temporary berth that had been set up. 

"All right, let's see what we're working with," Iatr sighed dramatically as he began examining the damage.

"Hey 'Raj," Bumblebee said, bounding over and perching himself on some crates near his head, grinning. "Missed you, stupid spy. You always get the best gossip."

"Like Prowl, most like to forget I am there, or do not deem me worthy of attention," Mirage was very willing to go with the effort to distract him from what had happened, and his field was openly grateful to both of them for the effort. He didn't want to think about what had happened or what was going to happen. Stasis would be nice, but it was too dangerous given how long he'd spent with Soundwave. Primus only knew what the telepath and master programmer had uploaded. Mirage was only sure that he had significant chunks of time missing, whether from low energy, exhaustion, damage or medical stasis. That meant there could literally be anything in his frame or processors.

He listened to Bumblebee chattering happily at him--no doubt he was under assignment to do so, but it was nice and he knew the scout actually did think of him as a friend--and a few kliks later the door separating the two halves of the shuttle opened and closed and Jazz came back over. 

"Have someone to see you," he said, and then there was an excited, yipping ball of fur and metal jumping onto him.

"Memor!" Mirage made no effort to conceal his pleasure at seeing his companion and wrapped his arms around the wiggling turbofox until Iatr growled that he needed access. "I sent it to get help when I knew I couldn't escape."

"Yep," Jazz said, scritching behind the little creature's ears as it curled up next to Mirage's neck. "It got back right before we set out. Suspected trouble, but Memor confirmed it. How's it look, Iatr?"

"Seen worse," the medic grunted. 

Jazz nodded. "No recharge, no stasis," he told Mirage, and squeezed his shoulder. "You survived."

"Yes," Mirage replied, settling in with the orders that would override every internal request for either until he was out of energon. It was all that needed to be said. He'd survived. He had given nothing of value up. The small talk continued, all four of them keeping Mirage talking or listening to random, unimportant things. They too gave up nothing of importance, but they still filled the three joor flight back to Iacon with chatter to make it pass.

After that, into solitary Ops confinement, with no one but Jazz and Mindguard to see him for three long, miserable orns until the last of his processor had been scrubbed of foreign code and as much intelligence as possible extracted from the memories. 

He was still in confinement, waiting, with Memor in his arms when Jazz came back in and sat down on the floor with him. "I can clear you to be released," he said. "But we need to have a talk first."

"Yes sir," Mirage held his companion a little tighter. "I am not longer worth a bonding price."

Jazz regarded him steadily, and he was silent for a long time. "No," he finally said. "By the rules of the world that made us, you're barely worth being a consort to a third creation." 

"But I still have value as a spy...." was as much question as statement as plea.

"Absolutely," and Mirage's value to _Jazz_ was ringing through that single spoken glyph, everything he'd always been. After a moment, Jazz sighed and cocked his head slightly. "No one has to know what happened," he said, gently. "Not even you."

Mirage vents hitched, desperate _want_ to have what had been taken from him ... from his former lovers back, to be able to give to them what was theirs by right and keep them as his. It was a terrible offer. Oh he wanted it so badly.

"It would be very easy," Jazz said, and reached across to wrap his fingers around Mirage's. "Your memory of the entire event wiped, with the knowledge that Soundwave's experiments were responsible, your seals replaced, and if you wanted, new equipment installed, provided you weren't familiar with it before this."

Mirage trembled. The offer was too good, far more than he deserved. He wanted it, longed for it, and sobbed softly as Memor nuzzled him to try to relieve the distress. 

"It would be a lie," Mirage finally managed, his face buried against Memor's shoulder and neck as he shook. "I can't lie like that. Not to them."

Jazz's light brush over his helm almost startled him. "And if I ordered it, didn't give you a choice, if it was _me_ lying to them, what would you think?"

Mirage shuddered. "Grateful, guilty, they would learn eventually. It ... my spark would remember being taken, even if my processors don't remember why or when. _Nothing_ is untouched." He heard Jazz's shocked intake. "Better they know what I am, than be tricked into accepting a poor substitute."

" _You are not_ a poor substitute," Jazz said. "You know what I think about the world that we came from. How it twisted us. And how much I would _still_ give to have it all back." He sighed. "I never told Prowl this, but it hurt not to have seals to give him. And ... he couldn't have cared less. I think they would have horrified him. Even knowing that, it hurt. And _I promise you_ that the twins won't care, even though it won't make a difference, not with the coding we have. I will demand nothing less for you than I would have if you were intact."

Mirage twitched as he tried to process that. His optics locked onto his Lord, trying to understand before he did what was proper and dumped the entire tangle of threads and simply accepted. It was not his place to understand, but to obey. Even as he did so, a tiny, terrible thread of hope slithered up from his spark and to his vocalizer. "They ... might still accept me?"

"Darling, they're _less_ cultured than commoners," Jazz said, with a shake of his head. "They weren't raised to care. If anything, they'll be elated. After they're done being furious--at your rapists, not at you," he clarified quickly. "Spike simulation is easy and familiar to them. I expect they're both spike mecha?"

"From what they've shown me, they enjoy both spike and valve equally, and haven't even heard of anything else," Mirage answered the question before he even worked on processing the rest. "Why elated?"

Jazz gave him an odd look. "The possibility of being able to interface with you, the way they're familiar with? Without seals, there's no reason to wait. A contract, and bonding, and committing your coding to them will still have to wait, but life is too uncertain not to take what pleasure you can, at least as I've come to believe," Jazz smiled slightly with a one-shouldered shrug. "But only if you want, and only _when_ you want."

A twitch passed through Mirage's frame at the idea of being intimate with anyone, much less like that. Yet his coding had other ideas and pressed at him to accept that the twins would indeed like that, and it was his duty to accept it. Even his Lord's order only dimmed the compulsion. "They would like it. My insistence on waiting confused and annoys them both, especially Sunstreaker."

Jazz's engine gave a low, soft growl. "They said that to you?"

"No. It was just very difficult not to have teeked it when I explained, and the annoyance on occasion when we are together." Mirage assured his Lord quickly. "It takes them much effort for me to overload, and they do not yet find joy in it."

Jazz scowled at nothing in particular for a long moment. His Mirage, his _creation_ , deserved so much more than this, but he'd seen for himself how much the spy wanted his courting pair. He sighed, shook his head, and stroked his thumb along Mirage's jaw. "You're sure you want to remember and tell them what happened?"

"No," Mirage leaned into the touch and shuttered his optics. "I don't want to remember. But it is better they find out now, from me. I want ... need ... to know how they respond. I can forget the details later, if it no longer matters. But it would be ... dishonest, dishonorable, to falsely present myself. I won't do that."

"All right," Jazz said softly, and pulled Mirage into a careful hug. "The only thing I want in return for your contract is your happiness. Remember that."

Mirage startled, his optics opening and brightening sharply at the statement. His processor whirled, trying to comprehend before the question was dumped as before, as irrelevant. He pressed into the embrace, relishing the closeness he could rarely have. "I will remember," he promised.

Jazz held onto him for a long time before letting go and pulling back. "You can go. You're on medical leave, and you won't be on active duty until _I_ feel sure you can handle it. I won't be easily convinced. You can go anywhere on base, but you notify me before you leave Ops, and when you come back. Our therapists are available for your use."

"Yes, my Lord," Mirage shifted to lightly rest his forehelm on Jazz's collar in an act of submission and loyal thanks so ancient that not even Jazz's family had still practiced. "Thank you," he added as he stood, a bit shaky on his pedes and with Memor clutched tightly to him. "When will the twins be free?"

"Their rotation just began," Jazz said, standing with him. "They'll be free in a little under sixteen joors."

"I intend to be in my quarters until then, and I would invite them down, rather than go up," Mirage managed to sound almost like himself.

Jazz nodded once. "I will arrange it. Sixteen joors from now."

"Thank you, sir," Mirage said before slipping away with something resembling his normally smooth gliding steps.

He made it to his quarters without having to pass anyone in the hall--not that his fellow SpecOps agents were mecha he dreaded seeing, they understood the risks of the work, but even though the details of his imprisonment were strictly classified, they knew perfectly well what happened to mecha caught and kept by Decepticons, mostly from firsthand experience. 

He didn't want to have to look at anyone and know that they _knew_. Knew he was worthless. Knew he'd been weak, knew he'd given in to survive. A true second creation would have _fought_ and deactivated before giving away the most precious thing he had to someone who hadn't earned it. Didn't deserve it. 

He didn't even want to be alone. Didn't want the silence. But he wanted to recharge, he wanted to not be aware of the world, even if it was just for a little while. Even if it made seeing the twins come that much sooner.

Memor whined at his distress as soon as the door to his quarters closed and nuzzled him.

It was a reminder both of the twins who had given the cyberanimal to him and that he wasn't completely alone. Memor was loyal on a level not even a proper second creation was. It was loyal to him, affectionate, demanded nothing and could never speak of his weakness.

Memor was safe. Memor couldn't look at him and remind him of what he'd done. What he'd lost. What he was. What he never would be again. 

* * *

Two joors before the twins were scheduled to arrive, Mirage's internal alarm went off and he reluctantly roused and checked his comm messages. Nothing from Jazz, which meant the arrival time was still correct. 

He was terrified. 

But he wasn't going to let them see that. He was the second creation of the House of Swift Sky, descendant from the House of Star Fire, heir to his Lord, and he would not let them see his weakness. His twins were fighters, and so was he. He would make them proud to court him. He would still be worthy of them in every way possible, except one, and he could make up for that one.

So he polished, and oiled, and buffed and shined for nearly a joor and a half. He would be beautiful, charming, and strong. 

He would prove his worth. 

He could do this. 

He spent the remaining time practicing on his lute, calming himself, clearing his mind. He was settled, steady, and focused. 

And then the door chimed, and all of it vanished.

Memor leapt to its tiny pedes, excited to see the twins until it caught its master's state and pressed close to Mirage's leg, radiating support and willingness to protect.

The action brought a small smile to Mirage's features and he reached down to caress the turbofox. "It is all right, Memor."

It was all right, even if it wasn't true. Leaning more heavily on SpecOps undercover protocols than ever before when preparing to face his lovers, Mirage walked to the door and opened it.

Arms wrapped around him immediately, one set from each side, and Mirage was very nearly physically lifted up as the twins embraced him. 

"Are you okay?" 

"What happened?" 

"Jazz wouldn't tell us--" 

"--We thought maybe--" 

"And the shuttle, Mirage, why wouldn't--"

"--Did they hurt you? Is there something--"

"We're so glad you're all right!"

It was only SpecOps protocols that kept him from breaking down, and he knew it showed in his field anyway. 

"Come in," he finally managed, more out of his desire to have the door closed than remembering his manners. "I survived. I have been repaired. I am not ... all right."

"What is it?" Sideswipe asked quietly, and _fear_ spiked through their fields, Sunstreaker's hands tightening on his arms. 

"I was a prisoner for nearly two decaorns," Mirage said, desperate not to have to _say_ it. He would, he'd find the strength, but what Decepticons did to prisoners was common knowledge among all ranks. The special attention he'd received from Soundwave wasn't important to this conversation. Soundwave was a civilized interrogator, at least about what he personally did.

The twins looked at each other over his helm, horror and comprehension dawning, and some small hope that they were wrong. Not _their_ spy, not _their_ Mirage, that happened to mecha who weren't as good as he was, not as valuable. It happened to worthless, common grunt soldiers like them. 

_Not Mirage._

"No--" Sideswipe said, his grip tightening. 

Mirage shuddered, and his mouth opened, his field becoming suffocating in its distress, and Sunstreaker quickly pressed fingers to his lips, quieting him. 

"Don't--don't say it," Sunstreaker said. "You don't have to." 

"Who?" Sideswipe snarled. 

Mirage shivered, his field tumbling into those horrible memories in an automatic response to one he had classified as ranking him socially. "Flatline, Runamuck, Runabout, Shockcore, Thrust, Falcon, Darkwing, Detour, Ransack, Misfire, Astrostrain, Nightflight, Octain, Overkill, Pounce, Skywarp, Divebomb, Headstrong, Rampage, Razorclaw, Tantrum...." he continue to rattle on until Sunstreaker stopped him less than a third of the way through the list.

"--Oh, Primus," Sideswipe whispered, letting go of him and sinking onto the berth. "Oh, Mirage." He held his helm in his hands. "I'm ... I'm so sorry. So your seals..." 

"Are gone," Mirage said. 

"Is there damage?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Repaired," Mirage automatically caught Memor when it jumped towards his chest to snuggle against him, radiating a soft thrumming hum that was only just audible to Mirage as he held the cyberanimal close.

A low, continuous growl was coming from Sunstreaker's engine as he guided Mirage back and had him sit on the berth between them. 

"So, what ... what now?" Sideswipe asked. 

"We _slaughter_ the fraggers is what," Sunstreaker snarled, going back to his pedes, pacing around the room. "All of them." 

"Sunny, we need--"

"Need _what_ , Sides?" Sunstreaker snapped. "Resources? Time? Permission? Frag those things!" 

" _Sunstreaker,_ " Sideswipe growled viciously. "We need to stay _here!_ " He looked pointedly at Mirage, who was trying to be invisible without actually vanishing.

Now the scrutiny of both brothers focused on him and he somehow managed not to cringe back, but still subconsciously activated his spark gift and faded largely from sight.

The statement, and reminder, focused Sunstreaker almost as quickly as the display of distress by Mirage. He reached out and drew Mirage against him, careful of the ball of fur, sharp teeth and claws against Mirage's chest.

"Here, yeah," Sunstreaker murmured as he stroked down Mirage's back. ~You know what makes us feel better.~

Sideswipe nodded, hesitantly. ~Are we allowed?~ he asked, resting his helm to Mirage's. He felt the noble's distress subside between them now that their fields weren't the frenzy of pending violence again. He felt how hard Mirage was trying to project being strong. ~I don't want to accidentally make it worse.~

~He doesn't have seals to break anymore, but ... ask, or just be gentle and you can pull me off if I can't....~

"'Raj?" Sideswipe murmured, stroking the noble's face. "Sunny an' me, we always..." He glanced up at his twin, got an encouraging nod, and looked back. "Whenever someone used one of us, took us, we'd 'face after, so they were never the last thing in us. Would that ... help?"

Humiliation, hope, disgust and uncertainty warred for dominance in Mirage's field and mind before he finally decided. His Lord's touch had comforted him when nothing else could. Maybe the two who should have use of his frame....

A second after that, his processors came to a screeching halt and he looked between them with bright optics. "You ... still _want_ me?"

"Of course," they said in unison, staring at him. 

"Why wouldn't we?" Sideswipe asked, bewildered.

Mirage looked back, just as bewildered, then rested his forehelm against Sunstreaker's shoulder and sighed. "Jazz said you wouldn't care," he murmured. "I think he expected you might be relieved, even, not to deal with my seals."

"We..." Sunstreaker said, and then stopped himself, because even though he didn't understand why, the seals had been important to their lover, and he didn't want to admit that he was a little, yes, relieved that they were gone. 

_Not_ in the way it had happened. That was supposed to be for them, showing Mirage their favorite way of loving each other. 

But not having to wait for the war's end? 

"A little," Sideswipe mumbled, looking away.

"I will try not to disconnect with what you are doing," Mirage accepted their statement and their offer. He was even a little surprised that he wasn't offended by it. They meant well. They'd honored his coding when they hadn't wanted to. It was far more than he deserved.

"It's ... not hard," Sunstreaker said, and they shifted to carefully lay Mirage back after convincing Memor to vacate his spot in Mirage's arms. "Both seals are gone?" 

"All three," Mirage said, looking up between them. He was proud when his voice sounded strong and steady. 

Sideswipe leaned in and kissed him carefully, hand stroking up and down his side. ~You or me?~

~You.~ Sunstreaker reluctantly gave it to his brother. ~You know once I get going....~

Mirage had to work to kiss back, and felt a tickle of pride when he managed to invite Sideswipe's glossa in and not scramble back at the invasion.

"There you go," Sunstreaker murmured, moving away and rubbing Mirage's helm in what he hoped were soothing circles. "It can be good, we promise. Really good." 

Sideswipe nodded in agreement, pulling back and pushing his hand down Mirage's front, down to his pelvis, rubbing there.

"I will try," Mirage promised the most he could, only to have his subconscious and frame react violently enough to the touch just above his spike cover to jerk himself out of both their hands and into a protective ball that was nothing but memory-fear. They were both intimately familiar with reading when a mech was aware of their surroundings or not and Mirage definitely was. Not that it helped the situation any with him shaking and staring at them with bright, surprised optics.

Memor was there in a flash, little body held out protectively in front of its master, fur raised aggressively, snarling them down and completely willing to give everything it had to defending Mirage. 

Sideswipe looked like his hand had been burned, the way he snatched it back, and Sunstreaker stared in shock. 

"Memor, calm," Mirage whispered, putting his hand on the turbofox's back and stroking once. Memor immediately turned away from the twins and leaped up to Mirage's shoulder, whining and nuzzling his neck. "I am sorry." He looked at the pair, grieving that he was not strong enough.

"...Sorry," Sideswipe finally managed. "Sorry, I--I didn't--I don't--" His hand fell into his lap and he looked away. 

"What can we do to help?" Sunstreaker finally asked, almost blurted, at a loss for how to move forward.

It was enough to make Mirage _think_ , and he cautiously crawled forward to sit between them again. "Hold me while we recharge? I will ask Jazz. He knows what helps."

~We can ask Prowl too,~ Sunstreaker suggested. ~He already knows what happened.~

~Definitely,~ Sideswipe said as they snuggled in around Mirage. Memor curled into the crook of Mirage's arm, the twins lay careful arms around his middle, and guarded him vigilantly the entire time he recharged. As straining as it had been up to then, the way he pressed into them, his field quickly calming whenever it spiked, relieved much of that distress. Whatever happened, Mirage still _trusted_ them on a core level.

The rest they'd just have to work on.

* * *

Sideswipe was on watch duty over their lover and his recharging brother when he felt Mirage begin to cycle up to awareness and prodded his brother over bond and with his hand so he'd be awake and aware for the moment. Not for one nanoklik was he not grateful that his brother had gotten used to Mirage's field enough to not freak out anymore when booting up.

It had taken time, and painful amounts of patience from Mirage as Sunstreaker had slowly grown accustomed to his presence, and it looked like now, they would get to repay all of that. 

"Recharge okay?" Sideswipe murmured against Mirage's neck once he was sure their lover was fully online.

"Yes," Mirage turned to nuzzle the red warrior, then to kiss the top of a yellow and black helm fin. "It was the most restful recharge I have had since before the mission. One of you was always on guard."

"Of course," Sunstreaker rumbled, arm tightening around Mirage's waist. "We'll always guard you."

"Thank you," Mirage gave each mech a soft kiss, moving quickly enough that he didn't have time to think, and then relaxed a bit when he realized it hadn't triggered anything. "I don't deserve you, but I am grateful beyond words that you still want me."

As soon as the words left his vocalizer, Mirage began to doubt their truth when the twins just _stared_ at him. "I--you do still want me?" he stammered after another moment, and by some miracle he managed to sound somewhat haughty about it. Of course they should want _him._ They had even said so. 

But that had been before trying to interface with him, before seeing him panic--

What if he'd screwed everything up, he should have just kept still and taken it, he'd been good enough at that for Decepticons, why not them? 

He could take it from Decepticons but not _his twins?_

Oh, Primus, they probably thought he was broken beyond repair, they had stayed out of pity and there was no way they still wanted to court someone _broken_ and _dirty_ and _afraid_ and--

"Mirage," Sideswipe said, and he was frowning. 

Mirage looked at him, chin held high, ready to accept the end of the courtship with what little dignity he had left. 

But then, low and confused and gentle, "Why do you think you don't deserve us?"

It brought all the fragile walls he'd tried to construct crashing down around him and left him shaking and sobbing in the aftermath as he clutched Sideswipe and shook, trying to put into words they might understand what simply _was_.

"Raj, Mirage," Sunstreaker pressed against his back, sandwiching him tightly between them. "Talk to us."

With as much control as he could muster, which was horrifyingly little, "My seals, gone. Let them have what I can't bear from you. I'm barely worth being a consort to a third creation. Never to bond. Never for first creations to touch. Not me, I'm broken I'm worthless--" He was babbling and he knew it, but he couldn't make himself stop in the face of their kind confusion.

"No, hey, hey!" Sideswipe said, and even his fingers on Mirage's mouth couldn't stop the endless stream of every reason _why_ he wasn't good enough for them anymore. How any other first creation would have ceased all contact, how any other Lord would have begun offering to _pay_ a third creation to take him as a plaything to have about the House for visiting cousins. On and on until he couldn't talk anymore, until it all dissolved into silent shuddering. "Shh, hang on," Sideswipe murmured when he finally quieted. " _You_ haven't changed, you and what you bring us, that's all still there." 

"We don't _care_ about seals," Sunstreaker said. "You're the exact same mech to us, only you've been hurt." 

"And it's _their_ fault, not yours," Sideswipe said, desperate for Mirage to understand that. "We still want you just as much." 

"If not more," Sunstreaker sighed.

"How?" Mirage managed to rein in his keen somewhat as he buried himself into the frame in front of him. His field was a terrible mess of grief, pain, disbelief and hope that he was utterly terrified of acknowledging. "How can you still want me after what I allowed?'

"How in the name of Pit did you allow what happened?" Sideswipe asked, completely baffled by the question. "You got caught, you must have been chained down--" 

"--Better than us, we weren't restrained at all and didn't even fight back," Sunstreaker muttered.

"You're first creations. You're seals don't matter to a contract," Mirage stumbled between what his coding told him and the reality he was slowly reconnecting with. "A proper second creation would have fought and extinguished to preserve his value. I just ... let them. Didn't even cry out, didn't try to stop it ... but when you touched me I panicked." Mirage shuddered, needing and drinking in their acceptance and support even as he didn't believe he deserved it. "I let them have what was yours."

Powerful arms wrapped around him from either side and warm strength enveloped him. 

" _You're_ ours," Sideswipe murmured, and there was a catch on the glyphs from the thrill of saying that out loud, thrill that was echoed by his twin in the form of a deep engine rumble. "You survived and brought back what we care about." 

"'S okay to be nervous about it," Sunstreaker said, meeting his brother's gaze over Mirage's helm, deep understanding and memory there of what they'd been like so long ago, terrified of everyone except each other.

"My frame and spark are yours," Mirage shivered in the acceptance, understanding and desire he couldn't comprehend and repeated the new terms of his conduct. "My coding will be when my Lord deems the war over." He couldn't quite abide by the strict glyph of it yet, not without screaming and fighting, but in his spark he meant it. "Lord Jazz ... told me the terms of the contract," he finally murmured, still awed and confused by it.

"There's a contract?" Sunstreaker asked, startled and mildly alarmed by that glyph. "I--I mean, there's _going_ to be a contract yeah but there are already _terms?_ What terms?"

"Sunny," Sideswipe soothed. "They're probably theoretical terms." He still glanced at Mirage. "...Right?"

"What he'll ask for me, what he was going to ask before. The price to bond with me," Mirage said quietly, unsettled and a bit confused by Sunstreaker's reaction. "He said he wasn't going to ask any less," and wasn't that bewildering and amazing. "That he was always going to demand my happiness."

"Oh," Sunstreaker said. "Oh, right," and he sounded incredibly embarrassed. "Sorry--you said terms and I just went to--I don't know, signing things and owning stuff and lots of rules to follow and having to act proper." 

Sideswipe snorted. "Yeah, you fragger, you made me go there too and _I'm_ the one who actually has to deal with something like that!"

"A contract usually details the credits you will pay for me, whether in actual funds or property, what status I will hold, what I will bring with me to my new House and the political connections the bonding will create," Mirage actually giggled at their reaction. "Jazz just ... he decided what he wanted was for me to be happy."

"Good," Sunstreaker rumbled as Mirage snuggled between them and purred slightly. "Only important thing anyway." 

"Plus we're broke and own nothing," Sideswipe said, tucking in around Mirage. "Least he didn't take after his creators."

Mirage shuddered. "Agreed. We have time for a nice, long shower to clean each other up in...."

Sunstreaker purred deeply. "I would enjoy that." 

"We would all enjoy that," Sideswipe said, and they carefully untangled themselves.

* * *

With the twins on duty, Mirage wasted no time seeking his commander and Lord out, finding him lingering in a training room as far away from his official office as he could get while still being considered within reach, reading through reports as he balanced upside down on his hands. "Jazz?" he trilled, highlighting the sub-glyphs for his Autobot rank.

Jazz tilted his head back, saw Mirage, and flipped upright. "Everything all right?"

Despite his best effort, Mirage knew he looked miserable now that he was alone with a mech he trusted deeply. "I ... could not ... do it. How does one regain control?"

"You couldn't interface with them," Jazz said in clarification, going with his best guess. Mirage nodded, and Jazz shook his head. "I didn't think you'd move so fast."

"It's what they do for each other. I panicked as soon as a hand was on my interface cover," Mirage recounted, humiliated, but far less so than when it had happened. "It ended with them holding me, guarding me, as I recharged." A small smile found its way to his lip plates.

"That's a step," Jazz said, regarding his agent, then gestured with his head as he subspaced the report he'd been reading. "Follow." 

Mirage did so, following through the maze of hallways in the underground world until he stopped at a door Mirage had never entered before, and never asked about. Agents were trained not to ask about their own world's secrets.

"In here," Jazz said, stepping inside. There was a berth in the center, no padding, restraints obvious around it. A door in the far end opened, showing a warmly lit room with soothing paintings and a luxurious looking lounge. Jazz waited a moment, looking at Mirage. "Every agent but you knows this room very well." 

"Because this lesson would have broken my seals," Mirage barely had to guess even as he shuddered at the idea of voluntarily doing this on any level. "Desensitization to this violation, as I learned with other violations."

"Yes," Jazz said. "It's part of the reason complete training takes so long. Skills, intel, upgrades, those are fast. But _this_. This is slow. And agonizing. The agent directs the speed, I control the severity. A few viruses can make it seem _very_ real. Some can't stand to be touched for metacycles. But in the end ... concern for the frame is lost. You never learned that, not for what you lost. You still need to control the speed of your recovery, and you need to go _slow_."

Mirage took several long kliks to process that, looking around the room. "After I recover from this capture, will my training be finished?"

"As much as can be," Jazz said with a shrug. "What you went through was horrifying, but worse happens in here. You could elect to go through with this, but I don't know that it would do any good, and..." He hesitated. "I would need to ask Whiplash to be in control."

"Will it help with the next time I'm captured?" Mirage asked, every inch the proud noble and dedicated agent, afraid of nothing.

Jazz shuttered his optics. "I want to tell you no, but I can't. It might. The trauma of losing your seals to someone other than your Intended is likely the worse you could face. The rest of it is specific pain and torture desensitization, and learning to easily accept losing specific equipment. You would not have the same spike or valve after the training as you do now."

Mirage nodded. "I am surprised I have the same valve now. The triple changers are ... painfully large. I would finish my training now that I have nothing of value to lose." He drew in a steadying vent. "How do I recover quickly from this event?"

"You don't," Jazz said, shaking his head. "'Raj ... you just don't. Not without letting me do some hacking and deleting. Which I will do, and gladly, the moment you give me a go-ahead. But you'd only have to go through it again."

A shudder passed uncontested through Mirage's frame. "Then I will work through this. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker do want to help, even if they have no clue how."

Jazz snorted. "They can't tell sensitivity from a blunt force weapon. I would try moving slowly back into tactile interfacing with them. Maybe even start with fields. Do that until you can't stand it. Until your frame _burns_ with need. And then do it all over again. And always, _always_ move at your pace, not theirs."

Mirage absorbed that, processed it and then turned it over several times and logged it under 'Orders from my Lord' so it could override what the twins might suggest. "I will remember that."

Jazz nodded and sighed, regarding the mech that had come to be his creation. "You're sure you want this to count as training?" And it was almost a plea for Mirage to say no. "There's no saying you'll even face anything like this in the field again, not with how good you are."

"I can never face _this_ again," Mirage said quietly. "They cannot take my seals a second time. Why would I not wish to be prepared for what else may happen?"

Jazz just looked at him for a moment. "No good tactical reason that I can think of," he finally said.

Mirage inclined his helm in acceptance of his fate, both the immediate and near future.

* * *

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker nodded to Trick and Fastshot as the pair showed up to take over their shift of keeping guard over the Prime, but instead of walking away as the other pair took up their posts on either side of the Residence door, they simply turned around and pinged an entrance request. 

Optimus came to answer the door personally, looking down at them. "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker," he greeted warmly. "Is there a problem?" 

"No, sir," Sideswipe said. "We wanted to see Prowl. If he's available." 

Optimus cocked his head slightly, but nodded. "He is. You are welcome to come in," he said, heading back inside. 

"Thanks," Sideswipe said, and led his silent twin inside, following Optimus through into the sitting room. Prowl was in there, a game of Sovereign set up on the table in front of him.

"Yes?" Prowl looked up at them, reasonably certain of the reason for their visit but unwilling to bring up such sensitive subject matter. His tac-net's AI, already having slid to the background for the evening, pulled even further back at the subject warning. This was not a place for it and they both knew it.

"We, um..." Sideswipe said, shifting nervously on his pedes. "Wondered if you could help us. You know what happened to Mirage?"

Prowl nodded once. 

"Why don't we all sit down?" Optimus offered quietly, motioning for them to move to the double lounges, giving the twins time to settle themselves before they both looked back at Prowl. 

"We freaked him out," Sunstreaker muttered, shame tinting his field. "We didn't mean to, but he panicked." 

"We were trying to help," Sideswipe said, and he sounded lost as he looked imploringly at his sire.

"You touched him before he was ready for that touch," Prowl didn't have to guess as he relaxed in a chair designed for his doorwings. "He will not be easy to read. His coding will drive him to please you at the cost of himself. Jazz is helping with orders as Mirage's Lord, but they'll only go so far when you are there and Jazz is not. What happened?"

"We were going to try and 'face him," Sideswipe said. "That's what we always did, after. He was doing okay, then I touched right above," he mimicked on his frame, "And it was like I had hurt him, how fast he got away."

Prowl nodded. "You are bonded. Reclaiming is a fairly natural response, even if it isn't an assault. Mirage isn't there yet. Did he calm down?"

"Eventually," Sideswipe said. "He said he was sorry and asked us to recharge with him." 

"Guard him," Sunstreaker said. 

"But then he got really upset later again," Sideswipe sighed. "Just because I asked why he didn't think he deserved us. I mean I've seen mecha upset because of..." He waved his hand in the air aimlessly. "But he's..." 

"Devastated," Sunstreaker said in a low voice.

"He is a second creation being courted by a first creation _he very much likes_ after having dodged being bonded to one he _very much dislikes_ when that one he doesn't like was commonly thought to be the only noble first creation in Autobot ranks," Prowl sighed. "It's a culture you were never really exposed to, but it created both Jazz and Mirage. Their value is very much in their seals until they have a contract written, signed and filed for them. It will hurt Mirage for the rest of his existence that Sideswipe did not break his seals. No matter how much or little he might speak of it, no matter how completely he knows how you both feel about it, it will always hurt. The damage done to him by his second creation code over the seals is likely to be far worse and more long term than what he suffered at Decepticon hands."

"But..." Sideswipe said, and the ringing, _We don't care!_ was shouted over the bond with his twin in futile protest. "How do we fix it?" he asked quietly. "Can we fix it?"

" _How_ is a lot of things you are not very good at, but you can do. You've proven you can do," Prowl smiled at them, sad and proud. "Time, patience, understanding and going slow. Let him set the pace, as hard as that will be. Go back to tactile, fields and hardline are even better."

"Will he, ever ...?" Sunstreaker tried, before going quiet. 

"If he desires to, yes, he will be able to enjoy interfacing fully," Prowl assured him. "It just takes time and effort. Your support, your willingness to stay with him, will mean more to him than you can imagine right now."

"He said ... all three seals were gone," Sideswipe said. "But what's the third one?"

"A decorative one on the spark chamber," Prowl shivered at that violation. "Not even all nobles have one applied. It wouldn't have hurt to have broken, but what came next...."

Sideswipe's hand convulsed, tightening so hard around his own knee that he left imprints, and Sunstreaker's engine gave a sharp, pained whine. Next to Prowl, Optimus turned his head, optics dimmed. 

"Can't ... can't you do a thing?" Sideswipe asked, the question directed at the Prime. "With sparks? Blue told me about it, you do a healing thing? Can you do that for him?"

"If he wishes it I would be honored to," Optimus nodded. "I cannot force anyone into a healing merge. Even if he agrees, it is not a quick fix. It will only speed the process some and smooth over the worst of the pain."

"We'll ask him," Sideswipe said quickly, as Sunstreaker nodded. "Absolutely we'll ask him." He looked back at Prowl. "What else?"

Prowl gave them an apologetic expression. "Start with a lot of snuggling, just holding him. Pay attention to him like you did when you were courting, before you could touch. Begin with fields. Then hardline or tactile, whichever he prefers. When he's ready for a touch on his interface array, begin with his spike. Hand or oral stimulation. Do not skip the oral unless he dislikes it. The same with his valve. Consider giving him a toy or two to play with and encourage him to use it even if you aren't there if he wishes.

"Move at his pace until he's demanding more, and always be prepared for him to flinch back. It's not your fault, it's just what happens when a mech has been traumatized. Let him apologize, assure him it's okay, do what he wants and keep going until he's comfortable enough that he doesn't flinch anymore. Eventually, he'll be all right with you both. From what I know of him, Jazz and their rules, old and current, expect several vorns before he's completely at ease with you."

Prowl paused, allowing them to digest what he said. "Consider having him watch the two of you together, doing all of those things, as part of your regular activities. It will show him you know what you are doing with each technique, and if he desires you, it will make him hot."

"Oh," the twins said in unison.

"I guess, um..." 

"I guess we should practice some of those things. We've..." 

"Never really done oral." 

"Unless you count opening your mouth and sitting still," Sideswipe said dryly. 

"But we can do all the rest of that," Sunstreaker said quickly. "However long he needs."

"No, that's not the oral I meant," Prowl said gently. "It's not very difficult to learn. Though how is largely up to you. Given the circumstances, I would recommend learning from someone who knows how to teach well."

The twins looked at each other, and then hopefully at Prowl.

"An Ops mech," Prowl told them. "Most have been trained up to courtesan level, if they weren't there already. Plus those are mecha Mirage wouldn't think you'd leave him for. He'd believe them when they said it was a job. That does mean paying for it. I'll do what I can on the negotiation front, but for Mirage's sake, you need to pay for it."

"Oh," Sideswipe said, and slumped a little. "Guess we'll figure that out when we get there." 

"Hey, but speaking Ops mecha," Sunstreaker said, and suddenly he was scowling darkly. "Don't they all get, y'know, _slagged_ for training? So this kind of thing doesn't destroy them? What the _frag_ did Jazz do wrong?"

"Hey, yeah," Sideswipe said, and his engine snarled. "Why didn't he prepare Mirage better? He _knows_ this kind of thing happens!"

Prowl's expression darkened and his doorwings lifted in warning. "Because to prepare a mecha to shrug off being raped means that you _do_ that to them, and keep doing it until they're completely desensitized to the trauma. Mirage got it for torture, starvation, mind games and the rest, but to prepare him to shrug off what happened would have cost his seals."

Sunstreaker opened his mouth to argue, but Sideswipe elbowed him sharply. They walked a fine line with Prowl's tolerance for their overall dislike of Jazz, the less they pushed it the better. 

After a moment of calming himself, the yellow twin visibly backed down from the fight he'd been preparing for, but he wasn't quite done. "Did he make that choice or did Mirage?" he asked with a soft growl. "If he did it so he'd have a more valuable creation--"

"With what he was _always_ intending to ask as a price?" Sideswipe snapped at him. "How could Mirage be any more valuable when all Jazz wants for him is _Mirage's_ happiness? I know you don't like to think, but you _are_ smarter than I am when you try, so _try_."

Sunstreaker winced away from his twin, startled, not expecting a verbal lashing from that direction. "Fine," he muttered, his field drawing in tight as his armor clamped down. He couldn't hide his embarrassment. 

"And Jazz didn't even _have_ to let us court him in the first place," Sideswipe huffed, arms crossed over his chest, looking away from his twin with an irritated ruffle of his plating.

"I just want to make sure he didn't hurt him," Sunstreaker finally said. 

"Jazz did the best he could," Prowl spoke up. "He wouldn't have been the one to teach Mirage that lesson anyway," he sighed and dimmed his optics as he leaned back in the chair. "Choices were made by both sides with the full knowledge of what could happen and the odds. If anyone convinced them both to leave that training out, it was me. I was the one who calculated the odds that Mirage wouldn't be captured alive. I calculate the odds for every mission. It happened. Mirage was hurt in a way that can't be repaired. Now we all have to deal with the fallout. You and Jazz for Mirage, and I have to keep Jazz focused. You need to focus on your part; convincing Mirage that he is still worth your attention, and working with him to accept that attention."

"Yeah," Sideswipe said quietly. "We will." 

"...How's Jazz?" Sunstreaker asked hesitantly, earning himself a sharp look from Sideswipe. 

"Working his way through prioritizing the hit list," Prowl shrugged one doorwing. "It's how he keeps from focusing on himself and what he should have done. I don't expect I'll see him for a couple more orns, at least. Not until he's sure that Mirage is stable and won't take his own spark over this."

"Take his own _spark?_ " Sunstreaker yelped, half jumping up to his pedes. Sideswipe made it the full way there, looking like he was about to bolt. "He might _do that?_ "

"The likelihood decreases by approximately 4.3% per orn, with any major flashback events resetting the probability," Prowl told them calmly. "It is why Mirage is not allowed to be alone, even when he thinks he is. Someone capable of stopping him is within range. But yes, he might actually extinguish himself. Seals matter _that much_ to a second creation. Fortunately Jazz wishes him to continue and Jazz has the right to demand that he do so. Which brings it to which code set manages to dominate in those moments. Loyalty to his Lord's order, or loyalty to the culture that created him."

"Noble culture sucks, Prowl," Sunstreaker said matter-of-factly as he stood the rest of the way and stepped with his twin to the door. "I can't decide which was more imprisoning, youngling pits or Mirage's slag coding." 

"Coding," Prowl told them with utter conviction. "The pits you can escape from, rare as it might be. Coding is with you for life." He stood and moved to put a hand on their shoulders. "Do your duty, take care of Mirage. We'll all make sure he does not harm himself and he recovers from this."

"Thanks," Sideswipe said, offering their sire a smile, before they left to find their lover as quickly as they could.


	5. Learning To Touch

The attack on the Tyger Pax frontline had taken the twins away for a long time, and those long metacycles were spent waiting for any news that could get through the chaos about their army, their cause, their Prime. A skeleton crew had been left behind at Iacon, and many feared that Tyger Pax was a diversion from the Autobot's center of power and resources, but an attack never came, and finally, their troops came marching home.

Victorious, but barely.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe wouldn't recharge with Mirage for nearly a decaorn after they got back, too wound up from the constant fighting and guarding of Prime and afraid they would hurt him, but the night before, they'd finally come to his Ops quarters, exhausted and wanting to be near him. He'd embraced them, allowing his field to express what he couldn't with words. They'd shared a single cube of high grade and crawled into the berth, all grateful to be there, alive and together again.

Mirage booted first--a precaution, he'd set his alarm purposefully--and snuggled contentedly between the pair. It was a relief to have them back. Not one that he would admit to, but a relief nevertheless. He curled his field outward, caressing it against theirs drowsily, seeking to rouse them pleasantly, hardly even remembering that they hadn't done anything like this since before his capture.

Sunstreaker's field responded first with a flare of reflexive aggression that smoothed and embraced Mirage's field almost all in the same moment. Sideswipe's wasn't far behind, just as skittish at first brush and just as eager half a spark pulse later. Not that either twin was rousing much, but Mirage knew they would when the pleasure had gathered enough charge.

He continued the gentle stroking, finding the frequency of their sparks--identical down to the split-nanoklik-pulses--and remembered the orn they'd cornered him at the race tracks, begged him to allow them to ask Jazz for this courtship. 

And he'd never once regretted saying yes. Not since the first date, anyway. 

He kept those moments in mind as their fields all rippled together, staving off the darker ones, and he decided to see how quickly he could raise their charges before they were fully booted.

True to the natures they displayed, they were simple to rouse, simple to pleasure, and eager for it. Their sparks, their fields, responded to him and he drew a small moan from Sunstreaker while Sideswipe pressed closer and rubbed against him with only his most basic cognitive functions online.

Mirage froze, his field drew back to his protoform, and his hand snapped back to grab Sideswipe's hip, gripping tightly and trying to hold him still. That was more than enough to snap Sideswipe into a rapid boot and bright blue optics lit a moment later.

"Raj?" he murmured, uncertain of what he'd done, but sure it wasn't good.

"Don't rub on me like that," Mirage said, more firmly than he felt, with a mock-irritated ruffling of his armor. "It's like a common ruffian."

The red warrior cracked a grin at him and reached out carefully to caress his face, usually a safe move. "You're cute when you try to be all snobby with us." He turned more serious. "Sorry though. Didn't know I was doing it."

" _Something_ was feeling good," Sunstreaker mumbled from the other side. "Figured you'd have to go ruin it, slag for processors."

"As if you wouldn't have," Sideswipe huffed at his brother. "I just woke up faster, just like I'm always faster than you."

Mirage tilted his head into the caressing hand, slowly relaxing while they bickered back and forth above him, until he felt his spark calmed down enough to try again. "If you two are ready to pay attention to _me_ ," he said in a break, just as haughty as he had been before, "And if you can _manage_ to behave like civilized mecha, perhaps I will consider showing you what was feeling so good."

"We'll behave," they responded in perfect unison, their fields eager and playful. "It feels good for you too?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Obviously not as good as it does for you," Mirage said with a satisfied ripple, curling up between them and releasing his field back out to press warmly against theirs. "...But yes," he admitted, voice softer, warmer, losing the conceited front he had perfected so well. "It does."

"Good," Sunstreaker moaned shamelessly at the sensation of Mirage's field stroking through them, the pleasure shared through the twin bond. It was an effort not to touch, not to try to share this bliss the way they knew well.

~Push back,~ Sideswipe moaned across the bond and flared his field in reply, doing his best to pleasure their lover in a way that despite practice, they still weren't very good at.

~Right,~ Sunstreaker shivered with pleasure and mimicked his brother.

"Yes like that," Mirage moaned, field arching and twisting around theirs, delighted to feel their attempts. "Time the pulses for my spark frequency--you'll feel when you find it. It'll ring."

"Faster or slower?" Sideswipe asked after settling into a rhythm that was mostly steady.

"Faster," Mirage all but whined, fingers grabbing at Sunstreaker's hood and clenching tightly. "Increase slowly, like that." His own field curled out and around, centered on their spark chambers, bright and hot, licking over the crystal. His frame began to hum as the twins carefully, and a little clumsily, changed the rate of their pulses at his direction. He felt it when they got it right, a hot rushing surge of pleasure-charge crackling along every circuit and swelling his spark with energy.

The pair moaned with a thrill when he keened and arched between them, and suddenly their focus shifted from their own pleasure to encompassing Mirage between their pulsing fields matched to his spark rate and reveling in the results.

The noble's field stayed perfectly attentive and attuned to their chambers, but the noble himself seemed happy to let go and be lost in their attentions. The more they enjoyed the effects they were having on him, the more he _wanted_ to enjoy them, and the feedback loop of _pleasure-give-yes!-want_ tumbled around and around until it was bright and blinding. Somewhere in that pleasure before he lost all awareness, it registered with Mirage that the more he showed his pleasure, they more they enjoyed giving it, and the more they seemed to enjoy his attentions.

With a blissful keen Mirage's quivering frame managed to hold off until first Sunstreaker, then Sideswipe fell over the edge with matching roars of engine and vocalizers. The intense flash of their fields with the overload crashed through Mirage and he gratefully allowed it to take him to completion.

After, when his spark had stopped racing and his joints finally unlocked, he lay quivering between them, thrilled and amazed on a level that had nothing to do with being overloaded. "Fast learners," he finally managed to purr.

"Strong incentive," Sunstreaker actually _trilled_ , his field expressing how excited he was to have overloaded Mirage and the amazement he felt at overloading without touching.

"You are _stunning_ in pleasure," Sideswipe added with a careful hug and nuzzle. "Beautiful always, but stunning like that."

"I was designed to be," Mirage said, flattered and touched by how much they enjoyed what he had been created to do on a spark-deep level. And as ever, in awe of the fact that he'd been lucky enough to catch the interest of these incredible, unique first creations that took such joy in what he was. Another first creation would have merely expected it as a matter of course. "Thank you," he hummed. 

Sunstreaker joined in the careful snuggle, both of them intensely conscious that Mirage wasn't always comfortable with being touched and that none of them knew all the triggers.

"You're welcome," Sideswipe relaxed when their contact wasn't rejected. "Just telling the truth. You don't hear it often enough."

Mirage smiled, comfortable where he was and thankful they weren't trying for more. Of course, he wanted another overload, or ten, but he was content to stop, and more, he didn't want to push too far and lose this progress. This was good. 

* * *

Nearly six metacycles after his rescue Mirage found himself lounging in a chair brought near the berth, his optics bright and locked onto the red and yellow forms kissing and touching hotly in front of him. It was nothing like the tactile he knew, and he knew it wouldn't be long before one of them had their spike in the other, but the wild pleasure and joy their fields and voices expressed was intense, addictive and very beautiful in its own way. If there was ever such a thing as two mecha trying to become one, he was witnessing it before him as the frames housing the split spark pushed and pulled at each other, longing and craving clear in every movement. 

The tactile touches were quickly turning into something more familiar, as Sunstreaker curled his hand around Sideswipe's neck and pushed up to his jaw, claiming in a rough kiss as red-highlighted hips pushed up, a thigh moving between the other set of legs. 

Mirage's optics brightened with interest, wondering if he was going to get to see Sunstreaker taking his twin--something he knew happened but had never seen for himself, still, in all this time--but it was Sideswipe's spike cover that slid away in the next moment.

He felt himself want to touch, to join in their union that came so easily for them. But he wasn't ready to be touched back. Not like that at least. His internal temperature was rising just watching the pair that were such easy and passionate lovers with each other. When Sunstreaker's hand slid between them to stroke his brother's spike Mirage had to silence a moan.

He _wanted_.

Oh, he very much wanted them as they had each other, but he knew he wasn't ready for it. Not yet, and he _hated_ that he wasn't, hated the mecha that had done this to him, made him afraid of his courters and everything they wanted to offer and share, but the hate could be directed into his work. It made him deadly. 

The determination could be directed here, and he slowly gave into the craving to feel hands on his own frame, his own fingers, sharp and black against the light armor, trailing up and down seams in his chest, shoulders, legs, stroking his own cabling as his field gradually pushed out to mesh with theirs.

The _fire_ that was their passion surged into him, pulsing in time with Sideswipe's thrusts, their moans drawing a few out of him as his hands moved along his frame. He brought his right ankle up to tease the wheel while his left hand played with the nosecone of his alt. It felt _so_ good to be part of their passion, even just as a voyeur.

For a split moment, he wondered if they had inherited that same love of being watched that Jazz was notorious for, before quickly shoving the thought aside--it was still too strange for him to think of them as Jazz's creations, when he'd accepted that role so fully himself. 

Instead, he let his helm list to the side, resting against the high-backed chair as he watched and touched himself, vents at full strength and charge growing under his own knowing fingers. Any properly trained second creation knew just where to touch on his own frame for the best results, and Mirage was no different. He could play his own pleasure like a harp, and better. 

The twins moaned as his pleasure pulsed back out to them, and Sideswipe pulled Sunstreaker down into what could barely be called a kiss, it was so unrefined, but it was passionate and _raw_ and everything they felt for each other came out in it. It was very much part of what they were, a part that coding and natural desire was drawing Mirage to find more appealing as vorns passed. He would always tease them about it, but in the end, it was part of what had drawn him. They were _honest_ in a way that no noble-raised being could be.

It was refreshing, powerful, and in this context, utterly intoxicating.

As Sideswipe's pants became ragged and his thrusts harder, Mirage began to work himself to his overload to match theirs. It created an answering burst of excitement and awareness from the twins and suddenly their fields were wrapping around him, finding the rhythm of his spark in an instant, and _pushing_ in as they overloaded with trembling, roaring cries.

Mirage didn't resist the ecstasy pouring into him and he moaned into a humming trill, then a keen of exquisite pleasure of crackling energy and pulsing fields. When he finally came down, relaxing from the rapture, both his lovers were watching him with bright optics.

"Hey," he said, grinning lazily at them, fingers still unabashedly stroking his own wires and seams as he sprawled out on the chair.

"Primus you are _gorgeous_ like that," Sideswipe rumbled with blatant desire he wasn't even trying to hide.

"Can't wait until it's our touch making you moan," Sunstreaker added as he reigned in his lust.

Mirage hummed, tilted his head back and shuttered his optics, then x-vented with a shudder as his own fingers sent a cascade of information through his sensory net. 

He _wanted_ it to be their touch, just as much as they did. He was charged up, he was calm, their fields were so close and hot against him. He moaned again at another stroke, and felt the answering hunger that they tried to hide, and he knew they wouldn't move unless he gave them permission. 

"Now?" he finally said, as his bright yellow optics looked back at them again, and one hand reached out, brushing fingers along Sunstreaker's arm. 

"Yes," the yellow warrior moaned and shifted to draw Mirage onto the berth and between them. Careful, strong hands stroked Mirage's arms, his back, a lower leg, while lip plates brushed and kissed along his neck and face. Each touch given hesitatingly until he pressed into it, welcoming the advance.

And oh was it welcomed, Mirage arched and strained between them, charge skyrocketing with the thrill of finally, _finally_ letting them touch him and realizing after the first half klik that he wasn't going to panic. He squirmed, turning into a kiss, returning it heated and wanting as his hands moved everywhere they could over the larger pair of frames, trying to pleasure them as much as they were him. But with four hands on him, and only one on each of them, the race to charge each other up was easily going in their favor. 

"You look so good," Sideswipe moaned against Mirage's neck. He kept his hips carefully back, away from Mirage. He didn't have the self-control to keep his spike in, but he had enough to keep it from touching. "Feel so good. Overload for us. We want to watch you come undone at our hands."

Mirage trilled with pride, pleasure, obedience. If they wanted to see him come undone, he could do that. He reacted to every touch, loosened his armor so they could see the bright lines of charge and static crackling over his protoform. Loosened his hold on his vocalizer so they could hear every cry and gasp and shuddering shout, squirmed and pressed shamelessly in their hands. 

They'd gotten better, much better, for their practice on each other. They had nowhere near the level of skill as a noble, but they were more creative in their exploration than anyone Mirage had ever been with who knew the sweet spots to go for. 

" _S--S--Suuu-ides!_ " he cried out as he overloaded, the rush heightened by the bright flares of pride and pleasure and _desire_ thundering into him from all sides. Glyphs of praise and encouragement and pride and pleasure flowed over his audials from them both, sentiment backed up by their fields and the hands that were trying to prolong his ecstasy.

It was Sunstreaker who moaned in need first, his frame nearly shaking by the time Mirage came back to full awareness, but he could teek that Sideswipe wasn't far behind his brother.

Mirage groaned, and the part of him that knew it would be allowed now wanted to roll over and spread his legs out and _take_ them, wanted it _badly_ , but most of him knew that it would end worse and he pushed away with a low, frustrated moan. Riding the high of the overload he still gave in a little to press a deep, desperate kiss against Sunstreaker's mouth, then caught the wrist of the red twin that was still lightly caressing his nosecone and eased it further down.

"Can you--" Mirage gasped, and then Sideswipe was shaking with a surge of _yes-need-desire_ that somehow he controlled well enough to let Mirage guide his hand.

~Gentle, slow,~ Sunstreaker panted across the bond, desperate to _see_ their lover for the first time while Sideswipe's fingers carefully eased further down, ready at any nanoklik to back off or even move to let Mirage escape.

Scrambling, shaking, _wanting_ Mirage turned his helm to claim an equally needy kiss from the red twin and pulled Sideswipe further against him. He even managed to ignore the sensation of the mech's hard spike rubbing against his aft. He was in control of the pace. Jazz had ordered it. The twins insisted on it. Mirage actually felt like he was.

He fumbled with Sideswipe's wrist and brought it clumsily to his pelvis before Sunstreaker's engine gave a sharp rev, making all three of them moan. The twins pressed closer, intensely cognizant of how many ways and how fast this could go wrong and just what the reward would be if it went well.

Maybe, just maybe, they'd finally feel Mirage inside one of them, to feel his heat and pleasure in the way they craved. In the way they knew Mirage craved. 

The room was silent around them, the only sounds from their frames, the scrape of metal on metal, shaking fingers catching on a seam, vents expelling heated air, engines revving and racing, legs dragging over the padding on the berth and against each other. Sideswipe's hand over his spike cover had Mirage gasping and bringing his own hand up, fingers catching in his mouth, dragging down his neck as he whined and pushed into it, and then Sunstreaker's kiss, and the cover slid back. 

"-- _Sides_ \--" 

A wanting shudder, a nanoklik's freeze, mouth pressed against neck cabling, " _Raj_ \--"

Fingers circled and the housing spiraled open, pressure from beneath and hot metal pushing up--

\--Flatline was there, laughing at him as his seal tore, humiliation that it had taken so little, Flatline was jerking him off, he didn't want it, didn't want it didn't want it _didn't want it--!_ \--

\-- _No!_

"-- _Mirage?!_ " 

Sideswipe's hand snatched back and the twins scrambled away from him, leaving the spy frozen in place in the middle of the berth, optics wide and bright and staring, hands clenched, frame trembling.

"Mirage?" Sunstreaker repeated carefully, the glyph full of care and concern as Sideswipe reached out with his field, teeking of much the same.

Mirage's field shrank back from his, pulling it so tight around his armor that he would almost need to be touched to be teeked, and he cringed back from the twins, looking right at them and yet--he wasn't seeing them. His expression shifted and went completely flat and blank, with only the tension in his fists giving away his stress.

~Flashback,~ Sideswipe assessed quickly. He'd seen it often enough. Just one step shy of a full glitch like Jazz and Sunstreaker had. ::Jazz?:: he pinged the mech with an emergency tag even as Sunstreaker commed Prowl with the same.

::Report.:: Prowl's voice was completely flat, the tone of the AI, which could rouse itself far faster than Prowl.

::Mirage. His quarters. Interface flashback.:: Sunstreaker responded to the order on reflex.

::Call Mindguard. It is her specialty,:: the AI responded and closed the comm.

::Wa?:: Jazz's half-booted voice responded to Sideswipe.

::Mirage. Flashback,:: he stammered, terrified and only mostly managing not to show it.

::Mindguard's on her way,:: Jazz said, and his voice was ice. ::So am I. Don't go near him, and _don't_ leave his quarters until I tell you to.::

::Understood.:: Sideswipe responded and passed the order onto his brother as they carefully edged further away from the rigid mech on the berth without taking their optics off him or moving so far they couldn't stop him from hurting himself. Only Memor dared approach. He curled up against Mirage's side and whined softly.

It was like Mirage didn't realize he could move, the way his fingers and legs kept twitching, like he wanted to break away from whatever he was seeing, and he was trapped in place. Both twins wanted to go to him and hold him and promise he was safe, but the potential consequences kept them where they were. 

Mindguard arrived first, her medical override opening the door with a ping rather than having to even slow down. Her sleek all purple-black frame, marked only by the red and white processor doctor insignia on her chest and back, unfolded smoothly by the time she was even with the twins. The glow of her visor marked it as very different from Jazz's and most other mecha's. The opaque white material was intended to display the purple optics behind it, but not distinctly.

"What immediately preceded this?" she asked, her voice low and intense, but with the harmonics intended to calm and sooth.

"Tactile, overload," Sideswipe said. "Then we were too revved up and kept going after--he wanted us to, we all were--but I touched his spike and..." He looked at Mirage anxiously. "He just _froze_."

Mindguard simply nodded and sat on the berth before plugging into Mirage's medical port where neck cabling met cranial armor. Memor watched her sharply, but didn't even growl. He knew her and her function. Jazz and Prowl arrived a moment later.

Jazz took in the scent of the room, the ozone in the air, the lubricant smeared on the twins' thighs, and his engine snarled at them. 

"Wha--no, hey!" Sideswipe said, as Sunstreaker shifted in front of his brother.

"We fragged each other, not him," Sunstreaker growled at Jazz. " _Mirage_ put Sideswipe's hand there."

"Put _where?_ " Jazz demanded, as Prowl's light touch on his wrist kept him physically in place. 

"If I could please have silence for the time being," Mindguard said, her voice light and calm, but there were razor sharp subharmonics beneath her tone. "You know better, Jazz."

Jazz grimaced, but fell silent.

::On his spike cover, the tip of his spike as it came out,:: Sideswipe elaborated. ::He watched us while I spiked Sunstreaker. He got himself off with tactile from the chair,:: he motioned to the out of place item. ::Then he joined us on the berth, and _allowed_ us to touch him. We kept our hands where they belonged, and he overloaded between us from tactile. _Just_ tactile. _Then_ he caught my wrist and put it against his spike cover. I barely stroked and it was open, all on his own. _His_ desire. _His_ request. But when I touched his spike as it came out he freaked out. We backed away and called you.::

Mindguard dropped Mirage into a reboot. "How is he?" Jazz asked, something everyone wanted to know.

"Did we damage him? What did we do wrong?" Sunstreaker blurted out.

"He will be fine," Mindguard told them all as her frame relaxed slightly. "This is the first time you touched his spike?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sideswipe nodded. "He asked...."

"I heard," she gave him a tiny smile. "You did nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything right, including backing off and calling for help so quickly. It is common for similar stimuli to trigger a flashback. I've reinforced the markers that distinguish it as a memory and not current reality, but the reality is that he is working through this rather than having it wiped," and there was no mistaking that she approved of the choice, "so it will not all be forward progress. There will be setbacks like this. Do not allow them to stop you from trying again. It is part of healing."

Sunstreaker nodded, and Sideswipe's frame sagged with relief, simultaneous to Jazz. 

"Thank you, Mindguard," Jazz said as she rose. 

She inclined her helm gracefully to him. "As always, sir." She looked back at the twins. "I recommend staying here as he finishes booting."

"And then?" Sideswipe asked, not wanting to mess anything up.

"Listen to what Mirage wants. If he desires to process this alone, allow him to. If he wishes your company, give it to him," she instructed them smoothly, pleased that they cared enough to ask. "I know you've heard it a lot, and it will often be the answer. He is making very good progress and I have no doubt it is because of how you both treat him."

Sunstreaker nodded mutely, not used to having so much praise given to him when it didn't involve tearing another mecha apart.

"We will," Sideswipe promised, watching as she slipped into the background, ready to act if Mirage needed her, but otherwise staying clear of the family.

The boot sequence finished very slowly as Mindguard's edits and changes integrated and yellow optics finally flickered on dimly and Mirage looked around, confused and disoriented, finally settling on the twins after taking in Jazz, Prowl, and Mindguard. "I can only assume that did not go as well as hoped," he said dryly as Memor nudged his hand to be petted and was complied with.

"You kinda forgot it was us," Sideswipe said hesitantly as Sunstreaker made an abortive movement forward. "You okay now?"

Mirage turned his attention inward at that, very carefully checking his processors, Mindguard's most recent work and which memories she had added reinforcements to. He was still and silent for over five kliks, long enough for the twins to look anxiously at the processor specialist, who raised a quiet hand at them. 

Finally Mirage refocused and held his hand out to Sideswipe. "I believe so. What happened to trigger it? The memory file is corrupted."

The twins were quick to take him up on the offer and went to either side of him, careful with their touches, careful to keep them to his helm, arms and pedes.

"I touched your spike," Sideswipe summarized the very last event, earning a soft growl from Jazz that Prowl hushed. "What's the last thing you remember?"

A pleased flush came to Mirage's field and he hummed with quiet enjoyment. "Wanting your hands on me, everywhere on me."

"We did that," Sideswipe caressed Mirage's helm vents as Sunstreaker snuggled behind them, laying on the berth while his brother sat. "Took you all the way to overload. Probably one of the best things I've ever seen," Sideswipe smiled slightly. "You wanted more and we were happy to give it, even when you guided my hand down. Everything was fine with the cover closed, but when your spike started to come out your froze up."

"Between us we've seen enough flashbacks and memory glitches it wasn't hard to realize where you were and we called for help," Sunstreaker finished.

"Thank you," Mirage murmured, sighing as he pushed against the hand on his helm. He looked at the other three in the room and lifted his chin a little. "I am fine and in good hands. I will not push myself more." 

Jazz frowned. "It isn't you I'm worried about." 

Mirage looked away and down, suitably shamed by the words even as his lovers reacted with anger.

"You really think _we'd_ push, after all this time where we haven't?" Sunstreaker lifted halfway up with a growl and dangerous rumble of his engine. "Just what the _Pit_ does it take for you to believe we aren't the monsters you want to see us as?"

"Different spark creators," Jazz hissed back at him, tensing noticeably.

"Jazz." Prowl scowled at his mate. "That was uncalled for. They are _my_ creations, even if you do not wish to acknowledge them as your own, and they are the chosen mates of the creation you _do_ claim."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe just stared at Prowl, never having expected such a blunt and confrontational claim of kinship.

Jazz's armor ruffled and resettled unhappily around his frame and his posture relaxed back from the defensive stance he'd shifted into. He visibly fought back several replies, before nodding once, stiffly. "Thank you for the care you've shown in taking care of him," he finally said, voice and harmonics flat.

"We'll always take care of him," Sideswipe replied, silencing his brother over their bond.

"Come," Prowl said quietly. "Let's go back to recharge. The excitement is over."

"Let me know if you have any more concerns," Mindguard told Mirage, who nodded at her, before gliding out. Jazz watched her go, glanced back at the twins and Mirage, then followed behind. 

"Maybe next time don't bring him," Sunstreaker told Prowl as he wrapped careful arms around a visibly unsettled Mirage, scowling darkly.

"Once he was commed, I didn't have much choice," Prowl told them. "Don't worry about him. I'll sort him out eventually. Have a good recharge," he added before following his mate.

"Jazz'll come around. He's just grouchy. We did kinda wake them up," Sideswipe tried to reassure both twin and lover.

"He needs to approve," Mirage whispered, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing, each of his hands gripping one of the twins. "If he doesn't approve I can't be with you. He _has_ to approve."

"Mirage," Sideswipe tipped the noble's face up. "He's approved for vorns. He didn't say no now. He's just stressed. Don't worry about the maybe or could be. Until he says otherwise, he's given approval."

Mirage stared at him, optics bright, then both arms shot around the red twin as he all but threw himself at him, holding tightly, nodding. "I'm sorry," he managed. "I'm sorry I froze up, I _wanted_ it, I want _you_ ," and both of their designations were ringing in the subharmonics.

"We know," Sideswipe hummed softly, holding him as Sunstreaker came up to complete the embrace. "It's not your fault. We've all got our glitches."

"Yeah, think about who we are, who we came from. You know I've got a glitch, you've _faced_ it," Sunstreaker murmured. "Sides has it too. Jazz's is just as bad. Prowl locks up. You're the only one that _isn't_ glitched yet."

"What he means is that we really do understand not being in control, not acting like yourself," Sideswipe kissed Mirage's cheek. "We'll work through this. You're worth it."

"Damn right I am," Mirage said with a half-sparked huff, relaxing and calming between them. He shifted and they moved with him, carefully laying down, one twin on either side, and all three drifted together into recharge.


	6. First Mission

Mirage shimmered back into visibility once he was behind Hound's hologram of a twisted pile of metal, relieved to finally turn the disruptor off. He was back in the field for the first time since his disastrous mission and the last thing he wanted was for that to get drained again. "All right," he said, kneeling down to slip a datachip with the information he'd found into Memor's back. "Finally caught some grunts talking about him. They're shipping him off to Kaon with the next transport, so if they move, we'll have to follow. I think we should get in and set up closer to where they're keeping him. We can sabotage if they move before the beta team gets in place."

"Agreed," Hound nodded, his voice low and quiet in the Autobot SpecOps dialect. "We can count on a bit of Ops support before then too."

Mirage nodded and gave Memor a fond pet. "Take this to Jazz," he trilled to the turbofox, who yipped back at him before bounding off. Mirage sat down and used the freedom of the hologram to stretch his arms and legs out from the cramped stillness he'd been keeping for most of the previous orn. "As far as I can tell, they grabbed him because he was a good catch and the opportunity arose. No doubt they plan to attempt a reprogram, none of their medics can rival Ratchet."

"None of _our_ medics can rival Ratchet," Hound gave a low vent. "He's the best Cybertron's produced in a long time. At least that means they'll keep him alive and not cripple him before they get him to Shockwave and Soundwave. What condition is he in?"

"I didn't get a visual but he _sounded_ fine," Mirage said, with a hint of a smile, pulling a cloth to do a quick wipe-down of his frame. "He certainly knows how to use his vocalizer."

"You don't know the half of it," Hound snickered. "Or maybe you do, hanging out with those twins like you do."

Mirage smirked, not looking up from a spot he was polishing on his arm. "I've heard my fair share while making myself scarce in order to check on them. I don't know which is worse, the scraps that get them in there, or the wrath once they're inside."

"Neither seems to make much of an impression," Hound ventured. "Can't say I understand how those two ended up as Autobots."

"I think the guarantee of energon was a big draw," Mirage said, and settled back, optics dimming as he powered down his nonessential frame systems in order to gain his full disruptor strength back as quickly as possible. "Oh, and they are definitely not Prime's creations." He snickered a little to himself. "So, so not."

"Do you know who they are kin to?" Hound perked up.

"Prowl, actually," Mirage said, smiling. "And yes, before you ask if I'm sure, I'm sure."

"Prowl and Jazz?" Hound asked with a laugh that he quickly stifled. " _Seriously?_ "

"Just Prowl," Mirage corrected quickly. "Jazz is just their creator's mate."

"But you and Jazz" Hound pressed curiously.

"Yes," Mirage said with a small smile. "I didn't know about their relationship with Prowl before they began courting me." 

"Any of the other Praxians, besides Bluestreak?" Hound was now very interested. "It's not like there are many left. Why don't they have Praxian frames?"

"I believe it was something to do with one of their other creator's frames," Mirage mused, then made a sound that was close to a giggle. "Smokescreen's in that family too. I bet you could find a way to link all the Praxians in the army back to Prowl if you tried hard enough." 

"True, just like all the nobles can probably be linked to you," Hound did a quick scan to make sure they were still unnoticed. "You know, that's pretty odd, if you think about it. That you hooked up with a couple of mechs that you're related to by bonding and adoption. I mean, that technically makes them your brothers."

"Point," Mirage agreed with a head tilt. "Though I didn't know that at first. It helps that they only think of Prowl as their creator, and I only think of Jazz as mine. Our respective creators just happen to be..." He waved his hand airily and grinned. "Quite frequently joined near the hip, so to speak."

Hound grinned back. "So true. Doesn't hamper their effectiveness one bit though. I'm glad they're on our side."

"You have no idea," Mirage said, shaking his head as he relaxed back again, optics powering down. "Only thing keeps those two in line is Prime. I don't even want to think about what they could do under Megatron."

"Prime's the only thing that keeps a lot of mecha in line," Hound hummed and stepped up standing guard as Mirage sank into a light recharge. Once the noble was up to it, they'd both be going inside most orns, working to keep Ratchet there, healthy enough to be rescued, and soften things up for the final strike when they'd extract the prisoners.

* * *

"Well, fancy meetin' a couple classy 'Bots like you in a place like this," a familiar voice purred as the frame of Decepticon scout slipped past Hound's hologram within the base, where they had been keeping track of Ratchet's health and location for the last half decaorn. Mirage was on his pedes immediately, armed and on guard, until Memor poked its head out from behind the mech's neck and trilled happily at him. 

Careful teeking confirmed the rest of the identity and Mirage held his arms out to accept the turbofox as Jazz settled on the ground and a second scout frame slipped in. 

"You two have been here how long and this place is still standing?" the assassin teased. 

"Orders, Boss," Hound grinned at Whiplash. "That whole 'don't demolish the base with your recovery target still inside' thing."

"Yeah, Boss," Jazz snickered, reclining back with his hands behind his head, crossing one leg over the other. "Seriously, hard to believe someone ever thought you should be in charge." 

Whiplash grabbed a sensor horn on Jazz's helm and twisted, getting a stifled yelp. "That someone obviously had more sense than the one that thought _you_ should be in charge," he said, but the subharmonics were affectionate. 

"Ratchet is as well as can be expected," Mirage said, shifting the subject back to something resembling why they were all here. "A little beaten up but he still hasn't stopped teaching 'Cons how to swear so I'm not worried. Status of the other prisoners is more varied and less promising."

"As to be expected," Whiplash nodded grimly. "How many prisoners are there, and how many have a chance of surviving the breakout?"

"Eighteen of ours," Mirage said. "Twice that again of Neutrals, of which I believe only a few could be worth the resources to break out." 

"Officially Prime wants us to get every single one," Jazz said, frowning at that. 

"Not going to happen," Mirage said. "Some of ours will likely need to be culled, but how many exactly is difficult to tell. Their condition changes on an ornly basis. Three deactivated yesterday."

"Understood. We all know that part never reaches the report Prime reads," Jazz grumbled. "Unofficially, and this is from Prowl and me, this mission is a success if we get Ratchet out and he's not seriously damaged in the process. Everyone and everything else is just a bonus."

"Who's being held not in the brig?" Whiplash asked.

"Ratchet is the only one permanently being kept in their version of a medbay, and whoever is being used as leverage at any particular moment," Mirage said. At the questioning looks he got, he huffed. "They're torturing and injuring ours, and then forcing Ratchet to repair one of their own before letting him help." 

"Effective," Jazz hummed. "Have they discovered that he doesn't have the coding for 'do no harm' yet?"

"Unknown," Mirage said. "I haven't gotten close enough to see if he's been doing anything to the 'Con repairs, but nothing has become apparent from their behavior so far. Everything he does is closely monitored."

"So priority will be to clear out and disable everyone in the medbay, other than Ratchet and the current incentive," Jazz nodded. "Suggestions, or go for the basics of drawing everyone away with the general assault?"

"I suggest stealth," Mirage said. "At least at first. That will increase our changes of a mass break-out." 

"There's a changeover halfway through the night," Hound said. "Skeleton guard, low base activity. More than enough that we still need to be careful, but Whiplash and I should have no trouble disabling anyone in medbay while Jazz and Mirage take care of the brig. An assault near the end should provide enough distraction for everyone capable of getting out under their own power to make a run for it." 

"I suggest getting Ratchet out before any of this begins," Mirage said.

"Agreed. Even if they notice Ratchet's gone, they won't focus on the brig," Jazz nodded. "So we have a good twelve joors to kill before moving. Mirage, I want you to make sure Memor gets outside and send him off to the twins so Prime knows the plan, then get back in and start prepping for demolitions time."

"Yes, sir," Mirage nodded, prepared the message, tucked Memor into his subspace, and vanished.

* * *

As Memor arrived with the signal that Ratchet's breakout was underway, he and Jazz split up, each of them to take a block of cells. The guards were knocked into stasis, and Mirage began the painstaking process of deciding who was going to get an opened door, who was getting left alive in their cell, who wasn't. The possibility that he'd help a mecha out of their cell was limited, but always there. Sometimes VIP prisoners weren't recognized for who and what they were.

Three open doors, one passed by, an empty one, and then Mirage paused and regarded the being inside. "Ki'di'rashal."

_Kin by reformatting_

A greeting among Jazz's mecha to identify themselves to those under cover.

The mech's head shot up, azure colored optics brightening as he looked at Mirage, then repeated the greeting back with the correct intonations and rhythm. Mirage opened the door, and the mech reached down to lift the remaining stump of his left leg, letting it fall to show its complete uselessness. 

_Leave me._

::Jazz, Blizzard says to leave him. Busted leg.:: Mirage commed his commander, encrypted and frequency jumping as they did in an enemy base, uncertain if it was the correct call. Jazz knew the mech's value better than Mirage did.

::We can each help one out, he sounds like a top choice,:: Jazz said. ::He's in the third tier of intel clearance. It'll be your call in the end based on how easily you can get out with him.::

"I'll come back if it doesn't hinder the mission," Mirage told him in Ops dialect and moved on without looking back. The next cell had a deactivated frame, a Neutral that had likely bled out from injuries since the last check.

Two more open doors beyond that, and the next occupied cell was another recognizable Autobot. Not SpecOps, but important. And the Cons seemed to know it too, because he'd very clearly been tortured. Mirage's armor resettled with uncomfortable sympathy as he assessed the damage and the mech's ability to move and came up with an answer he didn't like. ::Jazz. Bettan is here.:: 

::Top tier clearance,:: Jazz said, and Bettan's light blue optics met Mirage's, flickering.

::He's not going to make it,:: Mirage replied, only just holding his voice steady as he knelt by the crippled mech and extracted a cable from his wrist to hook into the mech's primary data cable in his neck. "I can't leave you. You understand?"

Bettan's helm tipped forward in a partial nod and he reached clumsily for Mirage's arm, groping in the air before finding it and curling partial, crushed fingers around the armor. "T'll Cr'sch'k 'm 'k wai'n," he rasped through a vocalizer that sounded like it had been shorted beyond repair. "L'v 'm. Pl's. Well. Ma'k't fast." Fear curled into his field, where there had briefly been hope at seeing Mirage's face.

"I will," Mirage saved the recording in flawless high detail as he uploaded the kill virus into the officer. "Just relax and think of Crosscheck."

Flickering optics dimmed and then powered down as the frame sagged willingly. Mirage watched the chosen memories and fantasies absently--familiar, in so many ways. Victory, life, love, creation, friends, a peaceful flickering out of the spark instead of the violent gutter he was about to face. 

An entire life was lived in moments, all of it with a med tech turned Autobot, nearly meaningless in the grand scale of the army but everything to this ranking officer. At the end, the fantasy shifted delusional as the grounders took flight and watched a golden, glittering Cybertron fall away beneath them as they soared into the stars. Bettan's chest plates opened as a weak overload of the mech's last living energy shuddered through him and into his field before the malware corroded the last of his processor, sending toxin into his lines, and the frame began to gray. 

Mirage shoved everything of his reaction into the background, a psychological memory queue to deal with when it was safe. He reached into the open chest and pulled the spark chamber out. It was proof of identity and proof of deactivation. Standing smoothly, he walked to the next cell and unlocked it.

When he'd finished with the assessments he met again with Jazz, detailing the results as they quickly totaled how many were going to be making a run for it. Jazz had taken two sparks and no one to help out, so he would be following along behind the running prisoners to sabotage the first wave of guards. Memor returned with a confirmation of the break time attached, and Mirage quickly made his way back to Blizzard.

From the marks he had managed to crawl out of his cell where someone had picked him up and helped. A small smile crossed Mirage's features as he walked to the group that had gathered at the brig's door.

"You don't want to try to escape until the distraction begins," Mirage told them smoothly. "You can follow me out."

"You're Autobot?" a gruff voice that had known far better orns focused in on Mirage.

A glanced told Mirage the Neutral was a triple changer and the one who'd picked up Blizzard. A treaded and a rotor alt were apparent, though he wouldn't fly without repairs. It was a design similar to Springer, though with older alt modes. What wasn't as apparent was that Mirage was sure this being came from the same pits that had raised his twins. A Gladiator, a survivor, and very much a prize if won over.

"Yes," Mirage simply nodded.

"Takin' us prisoner too?" he rumbled. "Forced into service for this?"

Mirage cocked his helm. "Prime would have my helm for trying. You are free to go any direction you wish. _I_ am going out the exit I know is clear of Decepticons and base defenses."

He got a suspicious rumble, but the big mech settled a little more at that. Untrusting, as well, just like his twins when faced with someone unknown, but always happy to go with the option that seemed to provide the best chances. 

"All right," Mirage said, watching his chronometer. "Should be in three, two..." 

A deep, rolling boom could be heard from deeper within the base and Mirage knelt down to heft Blizzard up on his bad side, and was then pleasantly surprised when the triple-changer was right there helping as they set off. 

With the injuries in the group, it was slow progress, though Mirage still pushed them as hard as he dared and kept a constant lookout behind, ready at any moment to transform and race away. They were joined by Jazz's group, the disguise now absent the Decepticon insignia, as the Ops commander herded them along and took up the rear of the escapees.

::Why're ya helping?:: the triple changer demanded of Mirage.

::My orders are to empty the brig. Implicit in that is to get as many out as I can,:: Mirage responded.

::Then what?:: came the next short-range comm burst.

::Autobots return with us. Neutrals go where they wish. The same rules we work by everywhere else,:: Mirage replied.

::'Cluding with you?:: the mech asked carefully.

::If the unit commander authorizes the resources.:: Mirage glanced at him as they reached the breached door. ::I have yet to hear of the Prime refusing anyone.::

The mech nodded with a low rumble of understanding, but Mirage could tell that trusting him was the farthest thing from his mind right now. His appearance likely wasn't helping matters. If the triple-changer stuck around until he saw the twins, chances of nabbing him would likely more than double. 

They made it out of the base before alarms began blaring and at that, Mirage took off at a run, Jazz not far behind, and he could already see the smoke rising from the diversion battle that the twins, Prime, and the rest of the warriors that had come were engaged in near the front of the base. Their transports were waiting, a series of small shuttles, ready to take off as soon as their passengers were aboard. Some were for Autobots, others for civilians, and some were expected to take off largely empty as a distraction from the important ones.

When Jazz noted that the shuttle for Ratchet had taken off and was clear he whistled sharply. The sound echoed across the landscape, the call for the diversion mecha to fall back in a retreat to their own shuttle group. Everyone they'd freed from the brig began scrambling aboard the shuttles, because faced with the choice of staying and meeting Decepticon guards or fleeing with the unknown variable, the answer was easy. Sharpshooters were ready at the bay doors, firing past their own mecha into the pursuing crowds as the shuttles lifted off, each splitting away in a different direction. They'd regroup later at a spot near one of the last remaining Neutral camps to sort out who was going where.

Mirage couldn't help the small sound of relief to teek Flamespire as his transport as he sank down in the mech's hold with Jazz, Whiplash, Hound, Blizzard and the triple-changer. He made his way over to the sharpshooters and pulled his own rifle, firing out the back as the ground got further and further away. He could teek the triple-changer watching him from behind. "What's your designation?" he asked after dropping a 'Con.

"Axel," the mech rumbled.

"Why'd you help me?" Blizzard asked, that he was grateful ringing in the harmonics.

Axel shrugged. "Liked the way you looked whenever they brought'cha back in. Like you weren't goin'ta let 'em break you."

Blizzard chuckled at that and got a few matching grins from around the bay. "Got that right. First rule: give nothing of value up. Second rule: survive. Live by it, I'll die by it."

Jazz squeezed Blizzard's shoulder as they all settled in and the trio of sharpshooters pulled their rifles in as the bay doors closed. 

"How are the rest?" Mirage asked a little anxiously as he came back to the rest of the SpecOps mecha. 

"Everyone got away," Jazz said, and his lips quirked up. "Which includes your twins." 

"His twins?" Blizzard snapped onto a very new bit of trivia gossip he hadn't heard. "When did you hook up with _those two?_ "

Whiplash stared at him. "Have you really been gone _that_ long?" he asked, cocking his head as he pulled up dates. 

"'Lash, mate, the last time I was home _you_ were running the show and _he_ ," Blizzard pointed at Jazz, "Was your crazy lackey." 

Mirage chuckled as Jazz stuck his glossa out. "A while ago," he said. With Jazz around, there was no need to withhold information per normal SpecOps protocol. "They're not nearly as unpleasant as I had initially assumed they would be upon first meeting them." 

"And neither are you," Whiplash teased Mirage. "As I recall, your first meeting you were rather rude. Even if I do understand. Sunstreaker can look quite menacing, even when he's not trying."

Mirage didn't miss the way Axel's focus sharpened at the designation of the yellow twin even as he scoffed. "I was not _afraid_ of him," he said peevishly, leading to more teasing and heckling that filled in the empty joors and empty seats that none of them wanted to be thinking about.

* * *

Mirage didn't quite dance as he walked through the Ops maze, but it was a near thing. He'd successfully completed his first field assignment since his capture, aided in recruiting a valued triple-changer to the Autobot ranks, been combed over by Mindguard, debriefed intensely by Jazz, and been cleared to return to his quarters where the twins were waiting for him.

He felt light, hopeful, eager in a way he hadn't in a very long time and images of being sandwiched between his lovers were clear in his processor--until he stepped in and saw what they were doing. 

It looked quite innocent, they were just looking at some of the trinkets on his shelf, but Sunstreaker was holding Storm Front's rapier and play-jabbed it at Sideswipe, who blocked with his forearm and shoved his twin in return. 

"Don't touch that!" Mirage said, sharper than he meant, and Memor snarled from next to Mirage's ankle when it teeked its master's sudden shift in mood. 

"Touch what?" Sunstreaker instinctively froze at the tone. It meant danger, the kind they couldn't fight. Something capable of fragging him or his brother was about to be set off and movement was _bad_.

" _That,_ " Mirage said, stepping quickly forward and snatching the rapier from Sunstreaker's hand, bringing it in close to his chest. "Don't _ever_ touch this! You have _no idea_ \--!"

"Whoa, calm down!" Sideswipe lifted his hands in a semi-surrender. "We didn't damage it. Sorry. It's a nice blade."

"Really light. Why don't you carry it?" Sunstreaker tried to help out. "It would look really good on your hip. Lot like you, pretty, elegant and more dangerous than it looks in the right hands."

"It isn't for carrying or being in _anyone's_ hands anymore," Mirage tried so hard not to snap as he pushed between them to place it carefully back upon the shelf, the side with its former owner's scripted designation facing out before turning to glare at them. "Why would you think it's okay to just _play_ with something like that!"

"You don't usually mind us touching," Sideswipe shrunk back from an ire he didn't understand in a mech he cared for deeply. He could feel anger building in his brother. "We didn't know. Why is it special?" he asked, hoping that talking would cool at least one of the two razor-edged tempers in the room at the moment. It was weird to be the calm one and it didn't settle well. He was used to it with his brother, but not with Mirage.

"You've always _asked_ before!" Mirage said, and he was distraught and frustrated with them for even looking twice at the rapier in a way he couldn't understand. "It isn't okay to be in here and just pick things up! It's the only thing I was able to find of Storm Front's, if you'd even scratched it--!"

"Okay, we get it. It belonged to a mech that was important to you," Sunstreaker interrupted the building tirade. "It wasn't damaged. I know how to handle weapons."

"We're sorry. We won't touch without asking again," Sideswipe tried to smooth over some of his brother's language.

"He wasn't just--" Mirage said, rising defensively to the casual dismissal of his deactivated Intended before quickly switching to a different thread of thought, one going almost as rapidly. "Why wouldn't you think to _ask?_ " he said, and this time, the words were sharp and intentional in their hurt. "Just because _you_ never owned anything!" 

"You weren't here," Sunstreaker's voice held the first low rumbles of anger. "Why are you being such a _snob_ about--"

"--You've never minded before," Sideswipe said quickly and gave his bother a shove over the bond to hush him. "We're sorry, Mirage. We didn't mean to upset you."

Mirage's armor resettled itself in agitation as he focused first on Sideswipe, and then on Sunstreaker. "Fine," he finally managed, voice tight. "But for future reference, just because belongings are left unattended, _doesn't_ mean you can just go _molesting_ them any way you want to. It was Storm Front's, it's the only thing I have left of him, _don't ever touch it._ " 

"Got it," Sideswipe raised his hands again, trying to express his sincerity.

"We won't," Sunstreaker added to the promise, binding them both. "But what's the big deal with him? You were promised to him, but--" his voice cut off when Sideswipe elbowed him hard enough to cause his vocalizer to glitch slightly.

"He was my _Intended,_ " Mirage said, staring at him. 

Sunstreaker's open mouth remained silent except for a short burst of static as Sideswipe screamed at him to be quiet over the bond.

"Mirage, we weren't raised in that world," Sideswipe said gently. "Intended ... it's the mech you were promised to. He was more to you?"

"He--" Mirage said, shifting uncomfortably. "All that was left before he deactivated was to sign the contract. The courtship had completed, he was _everything_. I spent mechlinghood onward shaping myself to him, Jazz had to hack my code just to get it as flexible as it is now."

The twins looked at each other, then back at Mirage.

"So ... he was like..."

"Got further than we have," Sunstreaker blurted out.

"You loved him," Sideswipe finished softly.

"Of _course_ I loved him!" Mirage said. "He was my Intended from _separation_ , what did you think that meant?" 

"Didn't think about it," Sunstreaker shrugged, earning another sharp elbow and he growled at his brother.

"The only version we know is that Vortex was Jazz's _Intended_ too." Sideswipe mumbled. "Not exactly something you want to remember."

Mirage shuddered. "No, nothing like that. Vortex purchased and signed a contract before Jazz had even gotten youngling upgrades. Storm Front courted me properly, my creators cared for more than just their personal gain. The way things _should_ be done."

"But you said you were promised to him when you separated," Sunstreaker scowled, never one to be agreeable with confusion. "That's younger than Jazz was."

For once, Sideswipe could only silently back his brother's question.

"He made the best offer for the right to court me," Mirage tried to explain. It would take orns for him to fully describe the political and social complexities of the full process. "He was permitted exclusive rights, and the understanding that so long as I was not unhappy with the arrangement he would have my contract. It's as good as being an Intended, for any decent mech, without circumventing tradition."

"What kind of choice did you really have, though?" Sideswipe asked as he tried quite hard to process the statement and came up short.

"What ... does that matter?" Mirage finally asked. "My creators made the choice to let him court me when I was of age, what other choice is there?"

"Letting you love who you wanted to," Sunstreaker huffed. "Like we got to do."

"And you got to this time?" Sideswipe was suddenly very uneasy.

"I _did_ get to love who I wanted to," Mirage said. "I wanted to love my approved courter and Intended and he treated me well, enabled me to. This time was--was unconventional, but--I have my Lord's approval and I wanted you. Yes, like I got to this time."

~Shut up Sunny.~ Sideswipe slammed through the bond hard enough to make his brother wince. "Okay. Sorry you lost him." ~Shut _up._ ~ "It sucks to lose somebody you care about."

Mirage shook his head as he stared at them in some disbelief, choking back everything, reminding himself that they hadn't been raised in a world that taught any kind of manners or dignity and that they even had what they did was _amazing_. Eventually, he managed to bite out a cold, stilted, "Yes, it does."

"I still managed to screw that up, didn't I?" Sideswipe sighed.

~Some things aren't worth talking about,~ Sunstreaker commented. ~No good comes of it.~

~Yeah, but we need to, well, be _sensitive_ about his culture and all that.~ Sideswipe leaned on his brother mentally.

~He's being a little--~ Sunstreaker started to growl before his twin shoved him back across the bond. 

"Please go," Mirage said.

"Yeah, sorry. You know where we live," Sideswipe mumbled and all but dragged his protesting brother out the door.

Mirage watched them go in silence, then turned and lifted the rapier, trilled to the turbofox that had stood with hackles raised next to his ankle the entire time, and climbed into his berth. The rapier clutched in one hand, Memor curled against his neck, he finally managed to fall into an uneasy recharge.

* * *

"They're not gonna let us in, Sides," Sunstreaker grumbled as they made their way down to the Ops stronghold for the fourth orn in a row. Their access had seemingly been revoked, with their palm scans doing nothing but bringing guards who wouldn't tell them anything. "We're just embarrassing ourselves."

"You willing to give up on him?" Sideswipe shot back before forcing his armor to settle. "He won't take our comms. Jazz won't. Prowl apologizes and says he can't tell us anything, other than that 'Raj is okay. This is all we have."

"I'm not saying give up on him, I'm saying let _him_ say he's sorry," Sunstreaker said. "We didn't _do_ anything."

"We upset him. We touched his stuff without asking," Sideswipe shrugged. "And I wanna prove Jazz is _wrong_."

"...Yeah, there is that," Sunstreaker muttered. "But 'Raj is just being--he's being--just, nobley! And why does he still have that thing anyway!"

"Because it's important to him," Sideswipe shrugged and palmed the access panel.

Sunstreaker opened his mouth, but then the door unlocked and opened before them. "...Oh," he said, as they walked in. They knew they were being followed, they were always followed, but they stuck to the route that led to Mirage's quarters, and no one interfered. They pinged, and the door opened. 

Mirage was on his berth, back against the wall, looking away from them with Memor curled up in his arms.

"Umm, hi," Sideswipe said, stepping into the room far enough that the door would close behind his brother.

~Good one.~ Sunstreaker sneered across the bond.

~Like you have a better opening?~ Sideswipe shot back.

"Hello," Mirage said archly. "I have been thinking."

A tremble ran through the twin's bond, but on raw reflex nothing showed.

"About what?" Sunstreaker found his voice first.

"About you, and me," Mirage said, and sat up straight, setting Memor down, then stood and faced them. "We come from different worlds."

"Understatement of the war," Sunstreaker muttered, earning an elbow from his brother. He growled back.

"Yeah, that's not exactly news, 'Raj." Sideswipe murmured.

Mirage tilted his helm forward. "But I've been trying to ignore it," he said. "And you made me realize, quite vividly and suddenly, that you don't understand my world, and I don't understand yours. And..." He hesitated, glancing to the side, "I'd like to tell you about Storm Front. I think it's important that you understand who he was to me. And then I'd like you to tell me everything that I do that you find ... snobby."

The pair looked at him, stunned for a moment. This time Sideswipe recovered faster, but the relief was intense for them both. "We want to hear about him."

~We do?~ Sunstreaker was a bit incredulous.

~Yeah, we do. Cause he's the one we have to replace,~ Sideswipe pointed out. ~We want to know what he was dreaming of, before he settled for us.~

~Oh. Yeah. I guess so.~

"And, umm, we brought you something, 'cause we were being glitches about his sword," Sideswipe added quietly. "I'd have lost it a lot worse than you did if that was all I had of Sunny or you and I caught somebody playing with it."

Mirage perked. "What is it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light and casual. 

"Some electrum for flavoring energon," Sideswipe brought the small box from his subspace and offered it. "Peace?"

Mirage stepped forward close enough to accept the offering, careful not to seem too eager, and slid the top back to look at the flavoring dust. "Peace talks," he said, returning to the berth to sit, gesturing to them to make themselves comfortable on the other end.

"Peace talks," Sideswipe agreed as he and Sunstreaker settled on the far side of the berth and against each other. "So tell us about Storm Front?"

Mirage nodded, tipped his head back to rest against the wall and dimmed his optics. "Storm Front was a classic first creation," he began, and quickly lost himself in describing his lost Intended, why he had been perfect and what he missed so much about his home. That both twins remained silent for joors while he talked was not lost, nor that they actually paid attention even when they didn't understand.

When he was finished, the twins very carefully listed all the habits and tendencies that they didn't understand, or that they found overly snobbish. Mirage listened quietly, only nodding a few times, and then he thanked them once, and held his arms out. His lovers moved quickly to gather him between them, and Mirage was utterly relieved that they didn't teek of arousal.

"Don't know about you, but that was exhausting," Sideswipe murmured with a nuzzle to Mirage's neck as the noble was cuddled between the two frontliners. "Just want to lay here and doze with you right there."

"Yes," Mirage sighed with relief. They had work to do, to make this thing they had last, and it wasn't going to be easy, but if it meant _this_ , it would be worth it.


	7. Progress

"Hey," Mirage panted from underneath Sunstreaker, looking up at the yellow twin as he leaned back from the kiss. He could practically _feel_ the charge crackling between their frames, over to Sideswipe, and back, and a tactile overload sounded perfectly nice, but he wanted something ... _else_. "Have you ever..." His fingers found Sunstreaker's interfacing dataport, and he wasn't sure about his idea, but he _wanted_ it.

Sunstreaker looked between the fingers and face of his lover, his processor seriously fuzzy from the charge already in his system, before his brother panted out the simple, "No."

Mirage nodded, and hoped that this didn't backfire on him, but he hoped that if he plugged in, controlled the energy stream, that it wouldn't feel like Soundwave trying to hack into his processor. "Not even with each other?"

Sunstreaker shook his helm. "Spike-valve and spark is all we did before you."

"Hard to get closer than a full merge," Sideswipe added. "You want?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely yes," Mirage breathed, and now that they weren't kissing and rubbing their frames together the charge was fading a little, but when he reached to his chest, spiraled open the iris over his cable and unspooled it before bringing it to his mouth to lick, Sunstreaker's engine revved from the pure, raw sensuality that the noble was able to portray in that single movement. "Imagine what it would feel like if I did this to yours," Mirage purred.

Sideswipe's engine stuttered slightly before whining into a roar as he backed off to watch Sunstreaker's hardline panel open. The yellow warrior rolled to his back and half dragged Mirage on top of him in an offer of himself in absolute surrender to his lover's will.

Mirage hummed, carefully drawing Sunstreaker's cable out. "You've never unspooled this before, have you," he said in some surprise, and looked at Sideswipe. "You either?"

"Didn't know it existed until we started researching alternative interface methods for you," Sideswipe watched with bright optics while Sunstreaker tried not to whine at the teasing of having the cable in Mirage's fingers and not being touched. "Didn't seem like much fun."

"Oh, I'll change your mind on that," Mirage said, and drew Sideswipe closer with a crook of his finger. He took the red twin's cable and teasingly rolled it between his fingertips, then lifted Sunstreaker's to his mouth and sucked on it. He held it between his lips while he clicked his jack into Sunstreaker's chest and sent over a burst of energy. The answering burst crackled into his mouth as both mechs shuddered and groaned. Sunstreaker's hands came up to stroke Mirage's chest while Sideswipe trembled in his effort not to press closer and rub again.

Mirage lifted the red twin's cable and slipped it between his lips next to Sunstreaker's, swirling his glossa around them together, throwing his head back and enjoying the electricity bursting into his mouth as he pulsed over to Sunstreaker for a few kliks. When he had his own charge shimmering over his plating, he took their cables and rubbed the metal tips together, then plugged Sunstreaker into Sideswipe.

The twins made a startled sound as Sunstreaker dropped almost immediately through Sideswipe's firewalls like they didn't exist. From where he was at the edge of Sunstreaker's systems, Mirage watched and felt their fright, then how quickly they both calmed when their awareness realized that this wasn't a bad thing. A different flavor of a spark merge in a way.

"I'm going to stay back here," he murmured, not even past the outermost firewall, and licked Sideswipe's cable again. "I'm not ready to have something plugged into me, but when I can..." He pushed over another charge, relaxing with every moment that went by that didn't end in a flashback panic. "It gets _good_."

"Already is," Sunstreaker trembled as his armor flared under Mirage at the pulses of energy going into him and feeling the pleasure of those he sent into Sideswipe.

"Yeah, it's good," Sideswipe agreed as he shuffled closer to wrap one arm around Mirage while the other stroked Sunstreaker's upper chest in an effort to ground himself, physically and mentally.

They let the noble control the pace and intensity, and Mirage wasn't inclined to move slowly, ratcheting the charge up with each pulse until the three frames were dancing with bright blue arches of static that crackled and pulsed between them and all of them were trembling, right on the edge of bliss. "Kiss each other, while it takes you," Mirage gasped.

Sideswipe didn't hesitate, he all but dove for his brother and assaulted the yellow warrior's mouth, invading it with his glossa, and got back just as much fire, pressing their chest plates together as they cracked open, until the overload whited everything out for a bliss soaked moment. They were both trembling uncontrollably when it lessened its grip, but Sideswipe managed to urge Mirage off to the side with his arm and hip without growling at him.

The insistence in the red twin's field was the only thing that got Mirage moving on his own, slightly dazed but feeling the _need_ in first one brother, and then the other, and when he regained enough of his senses to realize what was happening, he scrambled to get completely off of Sunstreaker. His optics were bright as he watched their chests parting for each other, something he'd seen before, but never with these two.

Pale green-blue light flooded out as two crackling orbs, perfectly matched in color and size, lunged for each other and melded into one pulsing, glowing orb with a speed that seemed utterly unnatural and downright painful to Mirage. The bliss and peace that washed through the pair was undeniable, and Mirage was reminded that he was not watching a merge so much as two halves of a whole rejoining for a too-brief time.

They stilled, sighed with their mouths brushing together, and let the joining overwhelm and take them. Mirage watched the light glowing through the spaces between their frames, fascinated by how indistinguishable their fields became from one another. In other merges he'd watched and teeked, the two frequencies could still be felt, though blurred together, but with these two, they were just _one_.

It was amazing, and it was a welcome insight into the mechs courting him. Culture and everything else aside, being split-spark twins made them _different_ from a normal triad or shared mate setup. The world and their processors saw three, but Mirage was sure that when it came time for sparks, it would only be two, himself and the split spark.

The overload that washed through them was very different from other overloads he'd watched and felt with them as well. This seemed to be the one time, the one way, that violence and pain was flushed from them, drowned in the unity.

"Thank you, for letting me witness," he murmured when he was sure they could comprehend again, after the spark had reluctantly split back into the separate chambers and their chests closed.

Sideswipe made contented sound, aware but utterly unconcerned with what was around him.

"Thanks for moving," Sunstreaker smiled at him, showing a hint of the calm, serious and brilliant being he would have been before the arenas and war had stripped so much away. "Hardline was fun, but so intimate without being _us_."

"Maybe I can join, some orn," Mirage said, sitting up and shifting over, as Sunstreaker obligingly raised his head and then lowered it back down into the noble's lap. Mirage stroked the black and yellow helm fins with one hand and rubbed a sensor horn with the other. "When I'm ready."

"We'd like that, a lot," Sideswipe murmured. Though his voice was his, the harmonics and inflection, even his glyph choices, were a match for something between him and his brother and the same mix that Sunstreaker was using.

"Yes," Sunstreaker sighed, his pleasure at the attention curling around Mirage along with his utter contentment after the merge and having his brother sprawled strutless on top of him. "It'll be really nice to feel you with us."

"You could feel what we really are, not what we've become," Sideswipe added.

"I look forward to that orn," Mirage said, leaning down to kiss the top of Sideswipe's helm, and continued petting until they were both in recharge.

* * *

"Call that an orn," Jazz said as he carefully unbent his frame, one limb at a time, and stood up to begin stretching out the sore and tight tension cables. "You're getting better than me at this, Primus."

"I do have the frame for it," Mirage smiled warmly at the complement as he gracefully unbent and began to stretch. While he'd had some armor upgrades, they were nothing compared to the full sized warframe Jazz sported.

Jazz hummed in agreement as they bent forward in unison, hands touching their pedes. "How are you doing with other frame issues?" he asked, with the subharmonics of a creator, and a friend, but not a commander. 

"They're getting better," Mirage smiled to himself, his field hinting at his wonder at what he's witnessed when the twins had merged. "We had a wonderful hardline last metacycle, and they allowed me to watch them merge.'

Jazz nodded once, slowly. "And you've successfully watched them interfacing. What about touching while they're interfacing, or them touching you at all?" And there was no question of what kind of touch he meant.

Mirage hesitated, then shook his helm. "A few kisses is all, though I have no issues with tactile anymore."

"Excellent," Jazz praised, with honest warmth and joy for his creation's progress. "Kisses on your equipment?" he clarified next. "Open or closed?" 

"Umm, no, regular kissing while they interfaced," Mirage murmured, knowing his was disappointing Jazz. "Sometimes I can take a touch to my interface panels, but only sometimes."

Jazz frowned slightly as he straightened and they bent backwards, pressing their palms flat on the floor. "Have they tried oral?" he asked, concerned instead of disappointed. "On you or each other? You might have better luck with that than hands."

"I've watched them with each other," Mirage answered, his unease with the idea of applying what he'd seen to his own frame open in his field. "It is likely to do more harm than good to my recovery."

"Uh ... huh," Jazz said, slowly. "Compared to a pleasurebot, how is their performance?"

Mirage's field winced. "Like buymecha trying not to gag."

Jazz cringed at the images that created in his processor. "So an educated guess would be they have not sought out a tutor as they were recommended to."

"I wonder if anyone is surprised," Mirage commented dryly as they moved in perfect unison to stretch to the side. "They need it badly."

"Agreed, and I really think it would help you," Jazz said, frowning. "You don't have specific trauma related to oral the way you do hands. You know what," he said, standing up straight, "Nuh-uh, no creation of mine is getting away with that. " _You_ ," he told Mirage, "Are coming with me. Comm your twins, your quarters."

"Yes, sir," Mirage responded smoothly, flawlessly following the change as he did so. "They'll be down in a few kliks."

Jazz nodded and led Mirage through the halls, arriving just half a klik before the twins did. Jazz had sat Mirage on the berth and was standing near the head, arms crossed intimidatingly over his chest, visor bright and mouth in a straight, unamused line when they walked in and immediately froze.

"Wha?" Sunstreaker stared.

"What gives?" Sideswipe asked, focusing on Mirage as a likely source of information.

"Uh-uh, optics up here," Jazz said, bringing his fingers up to gesture at his own face. "Why haven't any of my agents reported to me about being hired for oral lessons? Did you ask them for discretion?"

"We've been practicing with each other," Sunstreaker bristled while Sideswipe looked even more wary. "Don't need lessons from a buymech."

Mirage could feel Jazz's field bristling in reply, but nothing that the twins could teek. "I'll make sure to pass that message along to them," the Ops commander said cheerfully. "But luckily for you, I am willing to teach you for free. Out of the goodness of my spark. Unless, of course, you've been able to give each other processor-blowing overloads and don't need the help." 

"We don't need anything from you," Sideswipe growled. "We don't _want_ anything from you anymore, _carrier_."

"Except you do," Jazz said calmly. "And for once, our interests align."

Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chest and glared while his brother gave Mirage another look that spoke clearly of the only reason either of them was still there.

"It would help Mirage," Jazz said. "You want that, and I want that. I can help. You don't have to pay me, Mirage won't be threatened, and I'm a good teacher. It would _help_. _Mirage._ "

"You _want_ this?" Sunstreaker locked onto Mirage while Sideswipe silently implored him to say something, anything.

"I..." Mirage said, glancing at Jazz for a moment, then faced the twins directly. "You ignored the advice to seek professional assistance, which I understand and respect, but you tried to learn on your own and haven't been able to. Which means that yes, now, I would like you to accept the offered tutelage."

Sideswipe glanced at his brother, then back to Mirage. "We're that bad?"

Mirage drooped a little and hesitated, then nodded. "Yes," he said simply.

Both twins slumped, their fight gone. "We were trying," Sunstreaker said almost meekly.

"Okay, what do we need to do?" Sideswipe squared his shoulders and faced Jazz.

Jazz looked at Mirage. "When is a good time for you? I'm not expecting or requiring an overload, I just want to get things started, and then the three of you can decide from there." 

"Now," Mirage said firmly, and there was an eager trill beneath the glyph when he looked at the twins. 

Jazz raised an optic ridge at him, then nodded before looking back at the twins. "I'm going to watch and guide and keep him calm. Start like you would for tactile," he instructed, and slid onto the berth, back resting against the wall.

~This is officially fragged up,~ Sunstreaker muttered to his brother's agreement, but they moved anyway. Weird and slightly creepy or not, they'd done far worse for far less.

With one twin sitting on each side, Mirage was drawn into a kiss by Sideswipe, giving the intensity, as always, to the noble, while Sunstreaker slipped in to kiss his neck and slide a hand down Mirage's side.

Jazz's field was pulled in tight to his frame and his visor powered off while he waited, motionless, until he was sure the trio had all but forgotten he was there and Mirage's moans reached a needy pitch before he lifted his head up. "Can you open a panel, either one?" he asked Mirage quietly.

The twins were startled by the reminder they weren't alone with their lover, both of them unsettled that they'd managed to forget that fact. Still, the sound of one of Mirage's interface covers unlocking but not sliding open drew their attention away from the unwanted observer.

"Good," Jazz praised, and drew a pair of cuffs out from subspace, handing them to Sunstreaker. "Put these on your twin, behind his back. Hands stay above his hips from here out."

"Please," Mirage panted, teeking their fear-response even more accurately than Jazz could.

The twins looked at each other over Mirage's helm and slowly Sideswipe nodded and held his arms back to be bound and half his strength crippled.

"Sunstreaker can release them at any moment," Jazz said, voice low and even. "Move back, kiss his spike cover. No glossa. If he teeks fearful, stop."

Sideswipe nodded and slid down to kneel along Mirage's legs while Sunstreaker claimed the noble's mouth for a kiss that wasn't likely to end. No matter how weird it felt, Sideswipe did as he was told and brushed his lips lightly against the unlocked cover and blew a gust of hot air across the sensor-rich area.

Mirage's hips shifted under the attention, lifting towards his mouth, but the cover stayed in place. Sideswipe continued kissing, and after a few kliks, realized that he could feel the metal heating to the touch. Mirage's pants were getting faster, his grip on Sunstreaker getting tighter, and Sideswipe continued kissing until Jazz finally murmured for him to use his glossa. 

For once unquestioning of the Ops commander, Sideswipe slid his glossa along the seam of the panel, then swirled it towards the center as he fought to keep his dislike of what he was being asked to do from his field and focused himself on helping his lover.

It got him a sharper whine and an upward twitch, before the cover snapped back at the next lick. 

"No glossa," Jazz said immediately, and his hands went to either side of Mirage's helm, thumbs rubbing soothingly over the metal when the noble gave a half-sparked, protesting moan at the instruction. 

Sideswipe complied as he pulled his field in even tighter and leaned heavily on the arousal of his brother and what he could feel from Mirage to mask his state as his lips descended to the spike housing. He had no idea how fast it would come out, so he anticipated the worst case and readied himself to take the entire length without much warning.

Instead, what he felt was much like before, a slow spiraling open and the very tip of Mirage's spike emerging, brushing along his lips, and then Mirage's field spiked with a flare of alarm and he shuddered and grabbed for Sunstreaker's chest, before going very still. Sideswipe froze and pulled back. 

"Shh," Jazz soothed immediately, stroking. "It's Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. They won't hurt you," he murmured, repeating that over and over until Mirage's optics cleared and he nodded, looking down at the red twin. 

"Keep going?" Mirage asked his lover.

"If you want," Sideswipe turned his optics up briefly, but otherwise held perfectly still.

"I do, I want, please," Mirage begged in a whisper. "I'm sorry, I won't freak out again, please." 

"Even if you do, it's okay," Sunstreaker promised softly. "We don't have to get it all sorted out _right now_."

Sideswipe flicked a trail of agreement through his field before pulling it tight again and kissed the tip of Mirage's spike, honestly clueless as to what else to do until it came out, but enjoying the way it made Mirage shiver when he did. He repeated the touch, again and again, until he felt a sudden settling in Mirage's field and his spike extended slowly with an accompanying moan, and immediate tension.

"Don't stop," Mirage gasped immediately, when he realized that Sideswipe was starting to pull away out of concern. "Just--keep using your lips. Please."

The red warrior complied, kissing and mouthing the length as it extended. It felt weird not to immediately swallow a spike once it appeared, but he'd already trained himself to comply with Mirage when they were intimate, so he obeyed.

"That's ... kinda hot, Sides," Sunstreaker said, as he watched with bright optics, turned away from Mirage for a moment. He got a frantic nod of agreement from the noble. 

"Good," Jazz said, with a hint of a smile. "It's supposed to be. When Mirage touches your helm, start using your glossa. Long strokes, up and down, flicks against the head are good. Write your designation along the side, move in circles. The touch after that, you can take the tip in your mouth but no further, then halfway, then whatever you want to do that doesn't involve hands. Always wait for him to mark going further."

Sideswipe ruffled his armor in understanding, not stopping what he was doing, determined to do this as quickly as possible, focusing everything on listening for the gasps and repeating what seemed to work the best. Then he felt the touch on his helm, and licked up along the shaft, and Mirage gave a shuddering moan. He worked the length, alternating between long strokes when he could manage it and small circles when he needed time to settle his tanks and processors by reminding himself just who and why he was doing this. He had no idea how Jazz got the idea he had enough processor power to write his designation or any other glyph with his glossa, but what he was managing seemed to be working.

Mirage was getting hot, and the other side of his bond was heating up. Much as he wanted to slap them both for it, Sideswipe needed it. He'd never been required to _participate_ like this, never had to think. He'd always been able to just relax his intake, not fight and let his processors turn off so he didn't have to remember much.

~He's worth it,~ Sunstreaker pulsed support along the bond.

~Yeah, and you'll have your turn soon,~ Sideswipe leaned on that support and focused on tiny actions and taking them as far out of context as he could manage.

Mirage touched his helm again, jerking him back to the present, and Sideswipe lifted his head and wrapped his lips around the very tip, something that felt simultaneously more familiar and more revolting than what he'd just been doing, then paused, unsure of what to do from there. There wasn't enough length to bob his head, he was sure that just sucking on it wouldn't feel good, and he couldn't use his hands. He froze, uncertain. 

"Glossa and gentle sucking," Jazz said.

Sideswipe complied and swirled his glossa around the tip while he sucked gently and quietly hoped this would work soon as the spike gradually heated. It took less than a klik before Mirage's hand closed around his sensor horn and gripped. "More--all of it, just--everything."

Sideswipe immediately dropped his helm, taking the fully extended spike all the way in until his lip plates pressed against the housing. Using the only trick he knew that didn't involve the other mech using him, he began to swallow around the length.

Mirage whined, his hips shot up and the fingers tightened as his field teeked with a confusing mix of signals, pleasure and stress, yes and no, _want_ and tension and fear. "Don't stop," the noble managed. " _Sides_ \--" 

~Are you okay?~ Sunstreaker asked as he pressed his mouth to Mirage's, trying to distract him from the memories.

~Yeah,~ Sideswipe replied, allowing himself to be used and relaxing as he finally got to the part he understood. ~It's just 'Raj.~

~And he's really enjoying it,~ Sunstreaker said. ~...Thank you, for doing that. I guess I've got valve.~

~I'll take this over valve any orn,~ Sideswipe managed not to make the face that mirrored what he was feeling. ~You can deal with _tasting_ the mess.~

~You're going to have to taste _something_ pretty soon,~ Sunstreaker said, listening to Mirage's soft moans. ~'Least I hope so. I hope he's okay enough for normal 'facing soon.~

~This far down my intake I won't taste much,~ Sideswipe continued to work the spike, relaxed and following old training that allowed him to largely ignore what was happening. ~I _really_ hope he'll be good with hands or toys soon, even if not what belongs.~

Agreement rippled across the bond, with strength and loyalty and support for whatever they needed to do to get Mirage able to accept touch again. 

With no warning at all, hands grabbed onto Sideswipe's helm and tightened down as Mirage's hips jerked up with a harsh cry and burst after burst thick transfluid crackled into Sideswipe's intake as Mirage's hips rocked against his face. The red warrior held still, continuing to swallow around the pulsing length until Mirage sank back, trembling and spent. Only then did he move, working his way up the spike until it slid free of his lip plates.

"Excellent," Jazz murmured, mostly to Mirage, stroking the noble's helm. "Feel up to your valve, or later? That one's trickier."

Mirage nodded in understanding as he tried to get his optics to focus on Sideswipe. "Now?" he said, switching his gaze to Sunstreaker. "Is now okay? I feel calm."

"Yeah, now's okay," Sunstreaker leaned in to kiss him and sent the signal to release the cuffs from his brother, who scurried to be rid of them. "Do I need those on?"

Jazz started to answer, but Mirage pushed himself up, shaking his head. "No," he said, and looked at Jazz, who frowned slightly. "He'll listen if I tell him no hands, he doesn't need them. They have more self control than you give them credit for." 

Jazz's visor brightened and his mouth turned up slightly, then he nodded. "All right," he said, and held his arm out to take them back, slipping them neatly into his subspace. He shifted, bringing Mirage to lean back against him. "Knees up, then legs apart, and relax as much as you can," he instructed, then looked at Sunstreaker. "No hands, start out the same way. You'll be using a lot of your glossa, but wait until Mirage tells you to."

"Got it," the yellow warrior nodded and watched as Sideswipe snuggled up against Mirage's side.

~It'll be okay, bro. I'm here for you,~ Sideswipe pulsed as much support through the bond as he was able.

~I know, and it's 'Raj. He's worth it,~ Sunstreaker agreed as he settled between Mirage's spread legs, kept his arms carefully tucked under himself and kissed the cover that was still closed.

Mirage made a sound, and not a good one, tensing immediately. Jazz flared his field in response, calm and steady and familiar. "You're in Iacon, Mirage, with _your_ twins." 

Mirage nodded and reached out for Sideswipe's hand gripping it to steady himself in the present.

"Look down," Sideswipe whispered. "Look at who's touching you. You know he'll go for me if he needs release until you _ask_ for him."

Mirage took a deep intake and nodded again, tilting his head down to meet Sunstreaker's lifted gaze with his own and focused on that. Familiar face, familiar optics, familiar helm fins that he loved to play with. Sunstreaker who had never, ever once tried to touch him in a way he didn't want, who wouldn't take advantage of this, who had been guarding him since long before he'd even _liked_ him. "Okay," he whispered, nodding a little jerkily, this time keeping his focus down and his optics online. "Okay, okay, yes. Keep going."

"All right," Sunstreaker said softly and leaned in to kiss the valve cover again, slowly moving to the edge with each touch, then along the seam, never diverting from the carefully telegraphed path.

He could feel Mirage relaxing as he kept to the edges, repeating the same pattern over and over until he felt as much as heard the cover unlocking, right before the noble's hand came to rest on one of his fins, squeezing gently. 

"Glossa?" Mirage murmured as he felt Sunstreaker press the fin into his hand. Without making a sound the yellow warrior exhaled against the warming metal, then lightly slid just the tip of his glossa along the seam where he'd been kissing.

The cover snapped open with a soft sound of pleasure and tension, but Mirage rubbed his thumb along the edge of one helm-fin. It was encouragement enough for Sunstreaker to slide his glossa inward, towards the still-flat ring of platelets that protected the valve from dirt and dust, but could also add a great deal to the pleasure or pain of an interface.

"Make small circles if you're not sure where to start," Jazz said. "You can also press your glossa flat and rub. The platelets will loosen as he starts to enjoy it, be careful to not catch and pull any of those, but you can run though them if you're gentle. If he pulls on you, he probably wants your glossa inside, if you can."

"He understands," Sideswipe relayed as Sunstreaker closed his lips around the outer edge of the platelet mass as best he could and pressed his glossa flat against the warm little bits of metal and slowly rubbed it in small circles. Mirage gasped and shivered. "That feels really good, Sunny," he said with a moan, and his hips pushed back against the yellow twin. "Really, _really_ good. Keep--keep like that. Never felt anything like that."

The hum of Sunstreaker's muted reply sent jolts of pleasure racing up Mirage's frame as the entire area seemed to come alive much as his spike had done for Sideswipe. Platelets fluffed out beneath the glossa, delicate and shivering as it touched them, warming noticeably with every passing klik until Sunstreaker tasted something oozing out and slicking the entire area, aided by his movements. 

The sensation was enough to kill every trace of arousal in the yellow mech.

~You turned your receptors off!~ Sideswipe prodded over the bond.

~You should have. You might have been first, but I'm still smarter,~ Sunstreaker teased back as he continued to work the increasingly slimy space with no actual clue how well it was working, but the way Mirage was moaning and squirming his hips was encouraging. The noble's field was swelling outward, heated and aroused in a way the twins had never felt from him during tactile.

"Jazz--can you--," Mirage gasped suddenly, back arching as he pushed at the mech behind him, trying to show what he wanted. "Want Sides." 

Jazz nodded and slipped out from behind Mirage, making room for Sideswipe to move in, drawing Mirage close and holding him tightly. 

Once the SpecOps commander was standing a bit away, Mirage let go of any remaining control in his field and cried out at the next swipe of Sunstreaker's glossa. "C-can you, fingers?" he managed. "Wanna 'face but I don't think I'm ready, need _something_." 

Without question Sunstreaker shifted to bring a one hand up and carefully pressed a single finger into the opening while his glossa worked around it.

"We'll do anything you want," Sideswipe promised from where he was holding Mirage loosely from behind and kissing his neck. "You're so gorgeous in pleasure."

Mirage shuddered wordlessly, hips rocking in small circles against the digit, his valve clamping down around it, quivering and wanting _more_. Sunstreaker obliged with a second finger and very careful little thrusts with his hand as he tried to pleasure his lover and knowing they were all out of their depth.

"Hold still if you aren't sure," Jazz said. "At this point he's worked up enough to finish on his own, just stay still and let him move against you. If it doesn't seem to break his rhythm, push with your fingers and keep licking, whatever seems to work best for him." 

Sunstreaker rippled his armor to show that he understood and kept pushing and pulling with Mirage's hips, wanting it to be over as soon as possible, and just a matter of kliks later, Mirage cried out and pushed down, his valve spasming around the fingers as he rocked through his overload. The overload crackled into Sunstreaker's fingers, glossa, face and upper frame even as it hit Sideswipe full on, causing both twins to moan softly at the first hint of pleasure they'd felt.

When Mirage finally relaxed, Sunstreaker pulled away gently and grabbed a rag from subspace to clean his fingers and face off with. The twins shared a glance then looked at Jazz. "Lesson done for today?"

Jazz nodded, and before he could move, the twins had slid off the berth.

"Where are you going?" Jazz scowled while Mirage was still caught in confusion over where his twins' fields had gone.

"Our quarters," Sideswipe shifted uneasily and started to slide backwards without actually taking any steps, his brother moving in perfect synch.

"Lesson's over, so we can leave, right?" Sunstreaker looked uneasily at Jazz.

"Yes, but...."

"He's not the only one with some damaged interfacing ideas," Sideswipe cut Jazz off. "Just how do you think we leaned?"

"It wasn't with each other," Sunstreaker added darkly as the pair stopped trying to hide that they were backing away. "Look, Mirage got what he needed. We'll be fine. Just want some time"

Mirage pushed himself up onto one elbow, his armor still loose and panting, staring at them with bright, uncertain optics. "Wait, but..." He trailed off, hesitating for a moment. "Are--are you okay?"

"We will be," Sideswipe put his best front on to soothe Mirage. "Just want some time alone. We'll be back in an orn or two."

Mirage just nodded, but Jazz continued to frown at them. "So why did you agree to it?"

"Wouldn't you for Prowl?" Sunstreaker shrugged.

Jazz's visor flickered, and a corner of his mouth quirked up as he tilted his helm in acknowledgement and agreement. "Take care of each other, then," he said, and there was sincerity in his voice. 

The pair nodded, offered Mirage a parting smile and left as fast as was possible while retaining any shred of dignity.

"I'm proud of you," Jazz said, turning to Mirage.

"Thank you," the younger noble dipped his helm in acknowledgement. "Will they be all right?"

"They'll be fine," Jazz said, sitting down at the end of the berth. "I think ... memories of being forced to pleasure others that were, well, unsavory." He shrugged and pulled a cloth from subspace to hand to Mirage. "The most important thing is that you have a memory of their fields on your equipment with no trauma involved, so you might not even need oral after that, if they're more comfortable with hands. If you do, talk to them about it."

Mirage nodded and cleaned himself up. "Their first times weren't much better than mine," he said softly. "They've just had enough time to recover."

Jazz sighed. "It's more that ... they lost the ability to recover. At least, to recover to what they were before. Who they are _now_ isn't who they were supposed to be. They just got numb from physical processor damage over time. The fact that this bothered them is actually promising, believe it or not."

Mirage stilled completely, his optics unfocused on the rag. "They must be very strong to survive that, stronger than I ever thought. I knew ... some of it. Enough to grasp the basics of how they grew up and their lives before the first mission. They never gave enough detail that I thought it was that bad."

"They lived in cages and were treated like less than mechanimals," Jazz shrugged. "I've never asked for details, I just know what went on in those rings. Probably the only reason they're sane is because they had each other to lean on, and that very brief window of living in society as an example to hold onto and mimic. Otherwise they'd be little better than a very intelligent turbohound."

"And far, far less easily trained I expect," Mirage shook off the mood and dropped the rag in a bin for cleaning before laying on the berth. "Thank you. I will have a talk with them before we try again, whether with glossa or hands."

Jazz nodded, smiled slightly at him, then stood and walked around, leaning over to press a kiss to Mirage's helm. "You did amazingly. You need anything, you know where I am."

"I will comm," Mirage promised with a smile at the praise, watching until the door locked behind his creator, mentor, and commander and settled himself to recharge by shoving all the disturbing things he'd learned and the new understanding he had of his lovers into a background queue. That done, the shutdown came easily enough.

* * *

Mirage tried not to answer the door too eagerly the next time it chimed and a quick glance at the cameras showed him the twins standing in the hallway outside. They looked calm, and when the door slid back and he could teek them, they felt settled, so Mirage matched that and waited until they were inside to tackle first Sideswipe, then Sunstreaker, in hugs. 

Sunstreaker chuckled softly as he caught the spy and lifted, and Mirage hooked his legs around the frontliner's waist and leaned back into Sideswipe when the red twin stepped close, nuzzling his neck. "Missed you two," Mirage said.

"It was only an orn," Sideswipe slid his hands along Mirage's sides. "Not like we got sent on a rotation or you on a mission."

"It was an orn in which I was wanting cuddling and had no one to cuddle with," Mirage told him matter-of-factly. "Therefore it was not _only_ an orn. I will have you know that I have been _severely_ cuddle deprived."

"We'll have to fix that right away," Sunstreaker purred as he and his brother moved in easy tandem to carry Mirage to the berth and settle down with the noble snuggled between them.

"We'll just stay right here until someone's shift starts," Sideswipe added.

"You had better," Mirage said in a tone that spoke of dire consequences should they decide otherwise, but his field and frame were relaxed and calm as he curled against them, x-venting softly. "You're all right?" he asked after a few kliks.

"We're fine," Sunstreaker promised.

"Just needed some time to feel normal, have _nobody_ touch us," Sideswipe added. "It's just how we cope."

"I'm sorry," Mirage said quietly, running his fingers down the side of Sunstreaker's face. "I didn't realize that would be so unpleasant for you. But it did help."

"We've done far worse for far less," Sunstreaker kissed those slender black fingers. "You're worth it."

"Well worth it," Sideswipe agreed strongly from behind Mirage's audial. "Glad it helped. We'll do it again, when you're ready."

"I might be able to handle hands now," Mirage said. "Just hands. Maybe." He sighed and took a moment to enjoy watching Sunstreaker's attentions to his fingertips. "Maybe more, it's hard to tell. I just want you to know that I'm extremely grateful, and that I'm here to help, if you ever need it."

"Understanding that we still retreat when we're unsettled enough is all we need," Sideswipe's field expressed how genuine that statement was. "You're healing. We're...."

"We're what we are," Sunstreaker finished with a soft x-vent. "Our damage has set. It doesn't hurt us anymore to push those limits."

"But we really appreciate that you might not need it," Sideswipe murmured.

"But we will if it helps," Sunstreaker insisted. "It can't _hurt_ us anymore. It's just not something we enjoy that much."

Sideswipe hummed in agreement. "Have you ever touched yourself ?"

Mirage shook his head. "Storm Front used to rub the seals sometimes, and then 'Cons, and now you."

"Maybe you should," Sunstreaker rumbled softly. 

"Doing it with another can build trust, but touching yourself can build confidence," Sideswipe added. "And it's hot as slag to watch."

"What _isn't_ hot as slag to watch him do?" Sunstreaker chuckled deeply.

Mirage grinned slightly, squirming a little to be more on his back so he could turn to see Sideswipe better. "Yeah?" he asked, lifting his head for a kiss. "You'd like that, mm?"

"Yeah, a lot," Sideswipe rumbled with a flare of arousal as he gave the requested kiss and then some. "You know how much we love to watch you come undone, especially at your own hands."

Mirage nodded and melted back into the kiss, using it to distract himself as he settled his hands on his chest and slowly ran them down his frame, and gave a soft, shy laugh when his fingers touched the top of the pelvis plating. "Did you do this?" he murmured. "For confidence?"

"We had each other," Sunstreaker kissed Mirage's helm vent before sliding his glossa along the fine lines. "But yeah, we touched."

"It had to feel good somehow, and we wanted to know how," Sideswipe agreed. "We weren't learning that from the mecha who paid for us."

"So we learned with each other," Sunstreaker purred. "It's a little different, 'cause we could always feel what the other did unless we were intentionally blocking it. So touching each other is a lot like touching ourselves."

"You can play with toys too, so you can feel a spike inside you, but have complete control of it," Sideswipe suggested.

Mirage hummed as his hands slid lower and began carefully tracing his spike panel. "I'd like that. And luckily for me," he turned to take a kiss from Sunstreaker, "I happen to know the two mechs who are able to get things like that. They might not even charge me." 

Sunstreaker rumbled with agreement and nuzzled him. "We'd charge being allowed to watch." 

"At least a few times," Sideswipe said, optics fixed on Mirage's fingers. 

"Absolutely," Mirage breathed, his own gaze flickering a little as he carefully explored the seams and the way they felt to be touched with different pressures until the cover unlatched and slid back, and he froze for a moment, hand snapping back.

"It's okay," Sideswipe turned Mirage's face to kiss him. "It does that when you're honestly aroused. No shame in it, no harm."

"Right," Mirage breathed, kissing back and carefully lowering his fingers down. "Of course. Knew that." He carefully circled the iris, tracing it in detail, feeling over all the different parts and surfaces that composed the outer face of his spike housing. The iris itself was pleasant to touch, smooth, interlocking plates that formed the perfect circle, ones that warmed under the attention as Mirage applied lessons learned in mechlinghood to himself for the first time. He'd been trained in timing, pressure, how to tell what different individuals were enjoying based on the specific rate and direction of temperature changes, with extra sensors in his fingertips capable of making the precise readings. 

The iris spiraled open and his spike nudged out, making Mirage's vents catch and hitch as he touched the sensitive tip, circling it to get a better feel. He didn't want to look--the only visual memory of his spike wasn't a pleasant one and right now, he didn't want to deal with that--but he felt, and coaxed, and shuddered as he extended against his own palm. 

"Yes, just like that." Sideswipe voice next to him was deeply aroused, and the twin's fields matched the hunger.

"Lovely. Built so fine." Sunstreaker moaned, his hands kept carefully still, but he was itching for more and it came through clearly in his field.

"You can touch," Mirage murmured, helm falling back against Sunstreaker's shoulder as he tried a simple, careful stroke, moaning quietly at the resulting charge that rushed up from his spike. "Above my waist. If you want."

Both twins moaned softly at the permission and four hands were soon exploring his chest, sides and wheel wells while the pair traded turns at kissing him deeply and hungrily.

Mirage kept his focus on that, letting his hand work on something more like an automatic loop rather than paying it any real attention, thinking more about the way his glossa danced against Sideswipe's and how much better Sunstreaker had gotten at the deft, careful strokes that made him shiver. They kept him distracted and calm until he very suddenly couldn't ignore his spike when he stroked, and his entire frame went suddenly rigid, the kisses forgotten, arching against them.

Sunstreaker's hands went to the sensitive helm vents to stroke while he kissed Mirage's neck and Sideswipe moaned, struggling to keep from grinding against his lover even as he focused on getting his fingers in _just so_ and rubbing the sensor mats in a wheel well.

"Nnhn--" Mirage shook, his hand moving in quick, even strokes, twisting his wrist in a perfect cycling pattern, and he overloaded with a sharp groan, his hips thrusting up in short, uneven bursts, pushing through his fingers and spilling onto his own hips.

"Primus, you're so gorgeous like that," Sideswipe trembled against Mirage, seeking a kiss that the noble was only somewhat coherent enough to open his mouth for.

"Will ... can you touch us?" Sunstreaker shuddered in anticipation. One way or another, he _needed_ to get off.

Mirage nodded, barely even capable of thinking in the overload daze as he tugged at Sideswipe to cover him while his other hand reached out, searching for Sunstreaker's spike panel and found it already open, the spike long and hard and _aching_ for attention.

Sideswipe was shaking in his effort not to rub against Mirage, knowing that was not allowed yet. His engine whined in need while his brother thrust against Mirage's hand and reached to claim a hot kiss.

Mirage moaned against it and squirmed so his chest was almost flush to Sideswipe's, angling his hips and legs to bring the red twins spike between his thighs, squeezing carefully. "Like that," he managed, the words muffled into the kiss that Sunstreaker was still pressing onto him. "You can move like that."

Sideswipe moaned and thrust, trembling at the pleasure of pressure and motion rushed through him. One hand found his brother and demanded his share of the kissing while the other buried itself in Mirage's shoulder wheel well and his field flared out to express how good he felt thrusting against his lover.

Sunstreaker only reluctantly gave up kissing Mirage to share a few with his brother and allow Sideswipe at Mirage's mouth. Most of his attention was on bracing himself against Sideswipe's back and Mirage's shoulder as he grunted, need and pleasure stripping away all pretense of civilization from his processors.

Mirage's spike stayed hard, and caught between their fields, began to ache for more _touch_ and he pushed his hips up against Sideswipe, rubbing against his frame and moaning, and at the next thrust forward, his valve cover snapped back and he whined sharply, _wanting_ , but--

"Don't go in," he gasped quickly, as much as he wanted that, didn't want to risk ruining this.

Sideswipe nodded his understanding and shifted his hips and thrusting angle so his spike rubbed along the valve's opening, rubbing through the platelets and licking up lubrication with every slide.

Sunstreaker shuddered at the pleasure, the familiar pleasure so close yet forbidden. His fingers curled against Sideswipe's back and his brother looked at him.

~Take my mouth, give him a show,~ Sideswipe lifted his helm in offering. Sunstreaker couldn't process any objection and scrambled to capture his brother's helm and press his crackling spike through the willingly parted lips.

Mirage's low, lustful moan was immediate and intoxicating as he stared at the offered display with bright optics, hips rolling back against Sideswipe's, hand up against Sunstreaker's hips and holding onto him tightly. "Harder," he gasped, and whether it was a request or an instruction was unclear, but it made both twins speed up, grunting with each push, and Mirage's hand squirmed down to circle around his own spike again, as desperate for another release as his lovers were for their first.

Sunstreaker roared first with a hard jerk of his frame, grinding his array against his brother's face in the blind need of his overload. Mirage shouted as Sideswipe's hips slammed forward, the red and black spike being crushed against his valve as the heat and energy that flowed across the twin bond and frames hit him and pushed him into a sobbing, arching, clawing overload as his legs tightened and shuddered around Sideswipe. He could feel his valve spasming and quivering, looking for something to _grip_ as it overloaded, and was just dimly aware that his spike had peaked again, his transfluid shooting onto Sideswipe, heated and charged.

All three gradually sank down, relaxing as the charge faded and allowed them to move.

"That felt amazing," Sideswipe murmured. "First real threesome."

"Wow that was good," Mirage muttered in groggy agreement, then his optics flickered on and he lifted his head to stare blearily at the red twin. "Thought you'd shared before?"

"Sure, but never with _you_ ," Sideswipe shifted and managed to capture a lax kiss. "This is _our_ first threesome. Off the charts good."

Mirage purred happily. "'S no wonder I got death glares for takin' you off th' market," he murmured, too tired to even keep his glyphs crisp.

Sunstreaker chuckled as he sank to Mirage's side. "Yeah, and you're well worth being off the market for."

"Definitely," Sideswipe mumbled as he settled on Mirage's other side and struggled with the coordination to pull a rag out to clean them up with. "So worth it."

His lovers helped, and there was a blissful peace in working together to wipe away the sticky mess before falling into recharge, something that most mecha would have rolled their optics at and put off until later. They were even able to rouse enough for a quick, dry polish, something that Sunstreaker needed on an obsessive level that neither twin nor noble questioned, and something they both appreciated and happily participated in. 

And then they were three purring, rumbling, sated forms all curled together in an immediate and deep recharge that took them before they could even tuck the rags away again.


	8. Rescuing Sunny

Mirage cursed as the building he was clinging to shook and caused his shot to go wide, which simultaneously alerted the Seeker he'd been targeting to their presence. ::Blue, inbound,:: he commed to his fellow sniper. ::He sees us.::

::Got it,:: Bluestreak said, swinging down to set up his own shot as Mirage leaned out, looking down to see what had caused the shaking. 

There was a tank on the ground, pushing against the foundation. ::Bumblebee!::

::Yeah we see it,:: the scout replied. ::We'll get him, focus on the Seekers.::

Mirage frowned, nodded, and climbed back up in time to see Bluestreak's shot hit true, making the Seeker spin and beat a hasty, unsteady retreat. It was a relief to not see another flier immediately inbound, after endless joors of beating Cons back from Iacon, but it was still less than a klik before he settled himself in to aim at the next one. 

The war was going badly, the battle was going badly, and all Mirage could do at this point was focus on his immediate duties and be grateful for each sip of energon he got and every klik he had with his lovers. Both were rare and bound to become rarer as the war dragged on. It was amazing that the entire clan he'd found himself part of was still alive, but with Jazz and Prowl as its leaders, he wasn't that surprised. Even the weakest member, Smokescreen, was not a mecha to be trifled with when it came down to hard choices and battles. All seven of them, eight if he counted the Prime, were part of an ever shrinking core of Autobots still in fighting shape and Mirage knew, deep in his processors, that soon their only hope would be to abandon Cybertron and pray they the Decepticons would be content to keep the world and not hunt them down.

Out on the field, Megatron and Prime were wrestling, hurling insults and blows. Mirage took a moment to drop a Decepticon who was trying to get in a sneak attack on the Prime, then focused on the Seekers once more.

::Mirage, Bluestreak. Move to a new location.:: Prowl's orders were quick, precise and allowed them the freedom to use their training to best effect. ::You're doing well. Keep it up.::

Mirage pinged back an affirmative as he quickly signed the plan of action up to Bluestreak. Down, over, and up. Bluestreak agreed with a lift of his wings and then they were scrambling down the side of the unsteady structure. It was in those few moments that Mirage could see just how much effort Jazz had put into training Prowl's adopted creation how to survive. Despite the heavier frame, Bluestreak was nearly as agile as Mirage and had the same magnetic upgrades. The young Praxian moved like a SpecOps agent, like one of _Jazz's_ agents, but he didn't think much like one. Not yet, at any rate.

They were set up and firing again, thoughts falling away as the universe narrowed to targets and the calculations needed to bring them down. Seekers fell. VIPs on the field were protected. VIP Decepticons took fire, but there was never an opening to take out Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave or Starscream. Even Starscream's trine was making itself scarce, as valuable as they were as targets. Mirage grabbed a new energy pack to load into his rifle while Bluestreak covered him, and as his gaze scanned downward, he spotted the familiar bright yellow mixed in the rest of the chaos. Familiar bright yellow that wasn't moving. 

Before Mirage had time to begin panicking, he saw Ratchet's alt mode streaking over, and that was all the time he could afford to take before his focus was lifted back up to cover his sniping partner while Bluestreak reloaded. Skywarp made himself a sudden target by teleporting, distinguishing himself from the half dozen other black Seekers of his build and Mirage snapped off a shot that would have shattered his spark chamber if the Seeker hadn't teleported at just that moment.

A rapid scan found him over Ratchet, who was in a reflexive protection posture over Sunstreaker. Another shot and all three were gone. Mirage's spark froze and skipped oddly in the next nanoklik as he stared at the empty space where his lover had just been, and then Bluestreak's sharp yell pulled his focus back up into the sky, and everything else was forgotten once more. 

* * *

Sideswipe had known when Sunstreaker went down, the way the bond went suddenly still, just like the way recharge felt, only he knew it meant his twin had been knocked offline. He'd also seen Ratchet racing that way just kliks after, and was about as calm as he could possibly get, when there was suddenly _distance_ and sharp, disorienting changes in Sunstreaker's position. 

The bond allowed him to sense about how close he was to his twin, and what direction he was in, and Sunstreaker was being taken away in rapid bursts that shifted direction every several dozen nanokliks. There was exactly one mech who could do that. Skywarp. His brother was being taken to a Decepticon stronghold by Skywarp. Not even the fastest Autobot could catch that Seeker, and Sideswipe felt himself losing ground on his focus. Everything in him screamed to follow his brother.

::Sideswipe!:: Prowl's voice was deep and hard, demanding in the way few could manage with him, but he got the twin's attention. ::Slaughter Cons. We'll get your brother after the battle _if_ you come back to me.::

In the end, all Sideswipe heard was "Slaughter Cons" and the vague understanding that he needed to _kill_ in order to get his brother back. Kill and get back to Prowl. He could do that. To get Sunny back, he could do anything. 

When the glitch he'd avoided for so long took hold, he didn't even fight it.

* * *

The medical boot was as unwelcome as it was familiar for Sideswipe, but Mirage's field next to him kept him calm and stopped the reflex to keep fighting from taking hold. When he finally onlined his optics it was to Mirage standing at his berthside and the instinctive cataloging of his physical condition made Sideswipe wonder why he was standing and not on a medical berth himself. Nothing was critical, but he looked a mess.

"Status," Prowl's lower voice ordered from slightly further away.

"Umm," Sideswipe said, looking around a bit further. "Semi-sane and functioning? Sunny's offline."

"The strike force is ready when you are," Prowl's stance was stiff, his doorwings high and strained. "You will lead Mirage to your brother. If Ratchet is not with him, you will find Ratchet _first_ , then recover Sunstreaker."

Sideswipe nearly snarled at his sire, but choked back in time to manage something like a nod. "Fine," he bit off. "He's really far, we have a shuttle or something?" 

"Yes, you'll be with the SpecOps team on board Flamespire," Prowl nodded. "Come."

Mirage offered his hand, wanting to press close and get a bit more reassurance that he could normally claim in public.

Sideswipe sat up and pulled the spy against him, careful not to hold too hard as his hands made their way up and down the frame, checking Mirage over completely. "You're all right?" he murmured.

"I look terrible, my finish is ruined, there aren't enough medics to actually _repair_ me, my lover is a POW and I'm _hungry_ ," the noble snarled haughtily, frustration boiling over at the question and he suddenly couldn't shut up about all the petty little things that were upsetting him. Even Sideswipe recognized it for what it was, however--an effort to distract himself from what Sunstreaker was likely dealing with right now.

The tirade continued until Mirage saw Jazz as they boarded the SpecOps shuttleformer, which caused him to still completely.

"Prowl said we have to get Ratchet out first?" Jazz asked.

"Specifically, he said to _find_ Ratchet first," Mirage said, chin lifted a little. 

"Pretty sure that meant get him out first, too," Sideswipe grumbled. "So yeah." 

"Change of orders. If Sunstreaker is in condition to be of _assistance_ when you find him, break him out first," Jazz told them. "If he'll have to be carried, we need to grab Ratchet first. Sunstreaker has been offline this whole time?" he asked as they settled in. 

"You would know if he'd been online for even a nanoklik," Sideswipe growled, insulted that anyone could think otherwise.

"Just making sure," Jazz said calmly. "The longer he's offline the better for him." 

Sideswipe scowled, huffed, couldn't bring himself to care about improving his mood, and gripped Mirage's hand to keep himself steady. 

Halfway through the flight, in the middle of a light recharge, Sideswipe bolted upright. "Sunny's online," he said, optics bright.

"What can he tell you?" Mirage asked as all optics snapped online and to the warrior. " _Anything_ is useful. Where he is, number of guards, who he's heard of being there, his condition."

"Nothing much," Sideswipe sighed after a klik of conference. "He's just in a cell, basic, designed to hold more than one but he's the only one in there. He can't move his right leg, Ratchet didn't get to that before they got nabbed. Whatever knocked him offline doesn't seem to have caused damage. Hasn't heard anything, can see a guard pacing the halls and hear him talking but not what." 

"Can he run a diagnostic and get a general idea of what needs repaired for him to walk?" Jazz focused on what he considered the most important bit.

"It's ... a torn cable cluster," Sideswipe said, relaying the information as he received it. "It just needs a fast patch but he doesn't have the right stuff with him."

"Is it something we have?" Jazz questioned.

"Should be, basic electro-conducive patch," Sideswipe said.

Hound dug around the larger medical supplies that Flamespire carried by default and produced one, handing it to Sideswipe. "Will that work?"

Sideswipe took it and looked at it closely, turning it carefully around in his hand to give his twin the best view possible. "Yes," he said, and Mirage held his hand out to take the patch. Sideswipe handed it over without protest and leaned back as the noble slipped it into subspace, optics dimming. Sideswipe started to relax, and then started. "They're--" He winced and curled in on himself.

He didn't need to finish the statement. Everyone knew. Most, perhaps all had been through it themselves. Mirage put a hand on his shoulder and offered silent support as Sideswipe supported his brother across their bond. It was nothing new to either of them. With very few exceptions Decepticons were not nearly as creative or sadistic as gladiators and those who bought time with gladiators. It was a discomfort to be endured, an annoyance rather than an intimate assault for the pair. They knew it meant they were horribly, irredeemably broken, but it kept them both alive and fighting.

Sideswipe stayed quiet, armor and field both pulled in tight as everyone but Mirage stayed carefully away to give him the space he needed. 

"Do we have primer?" he asked very suddenly, startling everyone after near joors of silence. "I have polish but no primer."

Without a word Jazz dug around in the shuttle's supplies and produced a container of the correct shade. He handed it over. "I trust you to keep him focused."

Sideswipe nodded silently, looking into his carrier's steady visor with an understanding flicker of his field, then settled in next to Mirage to wait out the rest of the flight in silence, promising his twin they were on their way, helping him get through the punishment the Cons were putting him through.

* * *

Jazz signaled for a halt right outside the Decepticon base and turned to face the small team of ragtag mecha that had somehow turned into Cybertron's elite. "Hound, you're with me for Ratchet. The rest of you, smash and grab. You see one of ours, you break them out, arm them, and keep moving. Getting free is up to them. You have thirty kliks. Get in, get out, go home. Got it?" 

"Yes sir," everyone echoed. 

::You're sticking with me,:: Mirage commed Sideswipe. ::You don't know the first thing about stealth. We're getting Sunstreaker first, then you two are going straight back to the shuttle. Pay attention to the route, I'm not going to be leading you back out.:: 

Sideswipe nodded his understanding, and that was all they had time for before jumping in. 

The maze of hallways was confusing, but it took almost no time at all to find Sunstreaker, and they could hear the snarling long before they even reached the cell. A dozen dialects, possibly more, none of them being used for anything other than profanity.

Sideswipe couldn't help the small grin as he took aim and blew a hole through the helm of the grunt currently thrusting into his brother.

"Took you fragging long enough," Sunstreaker growled at him, trying to shoulder the graying frame off as Mirage ducked around behind him to work on the cuffs. He sounded unaffected, but Sideswipe knew better. One look at his twin and he'd been fighting not to cringe; he'd known how much damage there would be, but _seeing_ it was still a shock. Sunstreaker's paint had been all but sanded away, deep gouges and billions of tiny scratches covering his frame, which was almost entirely unpainted steel. "Ugh, get him off!" 

Sideswipe grabbed the empty frame and tossed it to the side. "I've got primer and polish, but we don't have a lot of time," he said as he brought out the container and a clean rag. 

"Twenty-four kliks," Mirage informed them. "I will see you there," he added before vanishing.

Sunstreaker barely noticed, shuddering as he grabbed for the offered rag. It went immediately between his legs, wiping almost desperately at the sticky, flowing mess. 

"I'll get that," Sideswipe said quickly and knelt, switching Sunstreaker for a fresh cloth before wiping thoroughly around his brother's abused valve. "Sorry about this," he muttered as he wrapped an untouched corner around his fingers and pushed in, crooking at the knuckle to wipe as much of the transfluid as he could. He was glad for how bad his brother's paint was for a moment. Applying the primer had Sunstreaker's attention. It was a messy event, the coat going on quick and imperfectly, but at least he wouldn't be bare metal.

"Damn it damn it _damn it_ ," Sunstreaker suddenly hissed, when Sideswipe had finished cleaning and started repairing his leg. With each passing klik, his stress was ratcheting up and his fingers were getting less steady with the prospect of having to move before he was finished. "This is _orns_ of work."

"I know," Sideswipe murmured, pulsing calm support over the bond. "You won't be bare metal. Almost no one should see you."

Sunstreaker nodded jerkily and that was enough reassurance to get him through the primer coat. Sideswipe was there to help with everything he couldn't reach the moment he was sure the leg was functional, and as soon as the yellow twin was covered and mostly dry, they were moving. 

Sideswipe knew it was strange, to risk so much for a base coat of paint, but he also knew their chances of getting out alive were significantly better if Sunstreaker was able to stay relatively calm and sane, and if he'd been forced to move in that condition, _calm_ and _sane_ would have been the least possible responses. 

They reached the shuttle without incident and clamored aboard. Sunstreaker froze when he saw another Autobot in the bay, one that looked just as bad as he had. 

"Trailbreaker," Sideswipe greeted cheerfully as he ushered his twin nearer to the front, sat him down in a corner, and pressed a dent-popper into his hands.

The large formerly black mech nodded to him, dazed and hurting. "Sideswipe ... Sunstreaker. You got out. Good."

"'Course we did," Sideswipe said, putting himself between Sunstreaker and Trailbreaker, not because he was worried about what Trailbreaker might see or think, but just to give his twin some illusion of privacy. "Gotta get back out there and pound some dents in those glitches, yeah?"

Trailbreaker nodded absently, his gaze distant as he leaned against the side of the shuttle's bay and let himself sink into a recharge that looked more like deactivation.

Sideswipe let the grin disappear, more than a little relieved to let the other mech be someone else's problem and turned back to Sunstreaker, who was popping out dents with an intense focus. Sideswipe settled down in front of him and pulled a wrench out, starting in on some of the more badly damaged plating. "Whadja get yourself all banged up for?" he asked.

"You're one to talk, _volunteering_ to be seen like that!" Sunstreaker snapped back, the tension across their bond easing up slightly.

"Only 'cause I knew everyone would be looking at this hot mess," Sideswipe said, carefully keeping the bond wide open and as calm as possible. Yes, he hated having these scratches on his frame, the dents, the battle damage, it made him _itch_ , but he could _handle_ it. His twin, on the other hand, was not even remotely well-adjusted enough to keep from spiraling into a glitch, and Sideswipe could wait.

They kept up the snarkey banter until the bay doors slid open enough to admit Hound and Ratchet. The medic looked pretty banged up himself, both from hits taken on the earlier battlefield and from the treatment from the Cons. Being a medic saved him from some of the abuse, especially a medic who'd been willing to help 'Cons with the right leverage, but even he wasn't entirely immune. 

But he was walking, and talking, and true to form he immediately looked at Trailbreaker, and then Sunstreaker, assessing. 

"I've got Sunshine here," Sideswipe said, and nodded at Trailbreaker. "Dunno what's wrong with him." 

Ratchet nodded once, tersely, and headed to the large mech to begin examining while both twins gave quiet sighs of relief. While Sunstreaker was comfortable enough with Ratchet that the medic _could_ work on him when he was this anxious, it wouldn't have been pleasant for anyone.

Less than a klik later Bumblebee scrambled on board and gave a startled look towards Hound. The green scout could only shrug and they both hurried back outside.

"What was that about?" Sunstreaker growled.

"Timing. Jazz isn't back. I'm guessing takeoff is soon," Ratchet said without looking up.

"2.6 kliks," Flamespire supplied.

Three more Autobots came running in, each of them holding a standard blaster, just about tripping over themselves. Sideswipe kept his back turned, kept himself between the newcomers and his twin, as Sunstreaker's frame vibrated in a silent growl. 

A klik later, Framespire's engines roared to life right as Hound and Bumblebee came sprinting back up the rising bay door, pulling another frame with them, getting aboard just in time. 

"Mirage?" Sideswipe asked, twisting around, and saw just the scouts. "Wait, but--!" 

"Orders are orders," Bumblebee said, helping Hound move the large grounder frame closer to Ratchet. "They'll be fine."

"Go!" Sunstreaker pushed at his twin as he struggled to stand.

"Ah- _ah!_ " Ratchet said, jumping up to his pedes and putting himself bodily between the twins and the closing door, hands out. Either twin could have taken him out, but their respect for the medic kept them in place. It didn't stop Sideswipe from outright snarling at him. Ratchet snarled right back, undaunted. 

"They risk their lives to come here and break you out, you damn well sit your afts back down!" the medic snapped at them.

"But now _they_ need help!" Sunstreaker snarled, pressing forward, but he never quite passed his twin, who didn't pass the medic. 

"They are gonna be just fine," Bumblebee said cheerfully from where he was gripping the inside of the bay door in preparation for takeoff. "Seriously, Jazz and Mirage? _I'm_ worried about the 'Cons!" he chided the pair gently before Flamespire warned everyone to hold tight and the sudden sheer force and strength of the shuttle lifted them up and took them rocketing into the sky. All three standing mechs went tumbling backwards into the bay doors. 

"My paint!" Sunstreaker howled in outrage from on top of Ratchet's sputtering angry frame.

"But it's our job to protect him," Sideswipe complained, even as he resigned himself to going with the shuttle.

"It's _your_ job to protect our Prime," Ratchet said as he squirmed his way out from underneath Sunstreaker, adjusting to the inertia. 

The twins weren't far behind and quickly got back to their forward corner of the cargo bay, sulking but quiet as they went back to work on making Sunstreaker presentable enough not to freak out on the way to the medbay.

* * *

Mirage made his way down into the Ops bunker, trying not to look like he was rushing, but he wanted to get back to his twins. He and Jazz had held back, once they'd realized that rushing to get to the shuttle would be overly risky, and spent the twelve or so joors it took Flamespire to get back sabotaging the base. 

With the outside pressure, the Autobot forces had retreated underground into the Ops stronghold, and they now all shared official quarters. He palmed open the door and stepped in. 

"Turn around!" came Sideswipe's immediate shout. 

"Excuse me?" Mirage asked peevishly, even as he complied to face the closed door, mostly from simply being startled.

"We're not ready," Sideswipe explained tersely.

Mirage huffed, doing his best to sound as irritated with them as possible. "How long do I have to stand here?" 

~Gimmie five kliks,~ Sunstreaker muttered to his twin, then lifted his optics. ~Help me finish the face, at least that.~

"Eight kliks," Sideswipe said as he smoothed the paint on Sunstreaker's forehelm. "Polish Storm Front's sword or cuddle Memor. Just don't look at us."

Mirage trilled and Memor immediately came out from where the twins had banished him into a corner to keep him from getting paint on his fur or otherwise interfering. The turbofox leaped up, landing on Mirage's outstretched arm, and the noble carefully moved around the outside of the room to slip into his chair. "You are severely impacting my ability to be demanding and needy," he informed them.

"You knew we were glitched messes before we knew your designation," Sideswipe huffed at him. "How else do you get _Ratchet_ to give psych leave over paint?"

Mirage was quiet for a moment. "...He gave you psych leave?"

"Yeah, pretty standard. Three orns and we can ask him for a review," Sideswipe talked as he worked. "That's if we're back in order and caught up on recharge. There's a battle option on it, so if the Cons come back we can fight, but we aren't allowed out in the general population."

"Like we'd _want_ to be," Sunstreaker hissed.

"I sure don't," Mirage agreed, petting Memor and waiting patiently, trying to imagine what could have happened to create a mech that needed psych leave for paint damage. 

"All right, you can stop looking away," Sunstreaker finally said. 

Mirage nodded and stood, turning just in time to be caught up in Sideswipe's arms. "Oh--" he said, surprised. 

"Don't you think for a nanoklik that we aren't glad to see you," the red twin said. "We were really worried." 

"Could've fooled me," Mirage grumbled. 

"Sometimes, you have to do what you have to do," Sideswipe murmured as Sunstreaker came around to pin Mirage between them where the noble could fully teek and feel their regret. "We aren't sane. We just fake it well enough to stay alive."

"Yeah, we're glad you're back, even if it means you see me a mess," Sunstreaker kissed the back of a vent.

Mirage could feel how tense he was, and realized how much it was taking for him to stay there and not continue to work on his frame, so he reluctantly squirmed out from in between them and gestured back to the oversized berth. "Sit, I can help you polish." 

Sideswipe looked uncertain, and stepped away for Mirage to see how much work they'd done--and still had to do--on Sunstreaker's frame. Mirage's optics widened slightly before he collected himself. "Well? You're not going to get shinier standing there." 

"Suppose not," Sunstreaker said, and very gratefully sat back down, and began working on one of his arms while Mirage got his back and Sideswipe began the painstaking process of putting the trim on the helm fins.

While Mirage had a reasonable idea of just how much trust was involved for Sunstreaker to allow him to help, it was the first question that continued to nag him until, three joors and only a quarter of Sunstreaker's back later he couldn't contain it. "Will you tell me why your finish is so important to both of you? I know it is not the reason I fuss over mine."

"It's--" Sunstreaker said, startled unpleasantly out of his concentration, so much so that his field gave a sharp, unhappy twinge. 

"Both our finishes are important to us," Sideswipe said quickly, his voice low and even. "I just already finished mine." 

"Has to be perfect," Sunstreaker muttered, crouched over and rubbing obsessively at his elbow joint, hyper-focused on a spot that would almost never be visible. 

"Arenas," Sideswipe continued. "Mecha paid more for a healthy, good-looking gladiator. We got hurt for finish flaws. Even one little smear." He cocked his head a little, his lips turning upward in a grim smile. "Handlers figured out pretty quick that hurting one of us was a good way to punish the other. Finish flaws mean a constant feeling of foreboding of the other getting hurt. It's ... unpleasant."

"I am sorry," Mirage murmured as he dropped his gaze and focused on the hand sized part of Sunstreaker's back that he was working on. He was sorry, too. Sorry they'd endured that. Sorry he'd brought it up. Sorry he'd learned that it _was_ the same reason he saw to his own, only he now viewed his finish with a matter of pride, having long understood the social value of looking good. He was sorry that they could not take joy in this act, in their finish, that it was a necessity based in pain rather than pride.

Sideswipe just shrugged after a few silent moments. "Caught us your optic, didn't it? Ratchet could tell you more if you ever want. Coding sections and glitch event causations and technicalities, we just know what we experience. I could live with a scratch without glitching. I wouldn't _like_ it but I'd live. Sunny got the more powerful processor, but it's also less flexible. Gets stuck in patterns and routines and stuff."

"Which means that I glich easier, and harder, and it's harder to break," Sunstreaker muttered. "Got that from Prowl. Jazz got just as fragged in the processor, but Prowl _shows_ it."

Mirage gave a small hum of understanding and agreement, and careful sympathy. "How would you like to celebrate the successful mission when we're done with this?"

"A good frag and recharge," Sunstreaker said, and twisted suddenly at the waist, grabbing his twin and pulling him into a heated, desperate kiss. Sideswipe moaned into it, his hands carefully keeping away from the drying paint. 

" _Fraggit_ , Sunny," he whispered as it ended. "Hafta do that?"

"Work faster," was Sunstreaker's only reply.

"I like that plan," Mirage hummed as his engine gave a rumble. "Pleasure, and recharge together."

Sideswipe rumbled his agreement right back and with all three of them working, managed to get Sunstreaker's finish perfected and polished in under an orn, before Sideswipe pressed his brother down and back and drove into him while Mirage claimed his mouth with his own, reminding the yellow twin that he was _theirs_ , not the Cons'.

Under them Sunstreaker moaned, his field flaring wildly with pleasure and belonging at his brother's perfectly timed and angled thrusts and Mirage's physical reassurance. He reached up to grab Mirage's helm to hold him there while his other arm embraced Sideswipe, and after another klik turned his head up to catch his twin in another kiss. He felt Mirage grab his hand and press it against his wheel as the spy rubbed up against them, feeding off their arousal and letting his own spike extend against Sunstreaker's hip with a groan.

It wasn't long before Mirage reached over to stroke Sunstreaker's spike cover, offering to touch, an overload that Sunstreaker didn't get nearly as often as he once had. Hips bucked into the offered fingers and Sunstreaker didn't have the presence of mind to even try to be slow or cautious as he extended against them, groaning low and deep in his chassis while Sideswipe's engine _revved_ above him, both from the sight and what he could feel over the bond. Sunstreaker turned into Mirage's kiss again, fingers gripping the spokes of his wheel and pulling him close.

Mirage willingly sank into the pleasure and the kiss as he closed his fingers around the spike much thicker and longer than his own and felt his valve quiver in anticipation of something he wasn't sure he was ready for yet. Firm, even strokes with the intent to pleasure more than overload made Sunstreaker's vents catch, then wrung a keen from his vocalizer as Mirage smoothly synched his rhythm to Sideswipe's.

The red twin moaned his encouragement of what he was doing, mostly lost in his twin and trying to erase what the Cons had done to him, but aware enough to approve and realize that Mirage had taken a leap forward. "Gonna ... shoot soon," he managed, overwhelmed by the triple sensations, as a warning to both Sunstreaker and Mirage. 

"Go on," Sunstreaker gasped, barely more aware than his twin, and then cried out and arched when Sideswipe's crackling fluid hit the back of his valve, pushing him into his own overload, bucking into Mirage's hand and then it was over too soon and he needed _more_ , needed _Mirage_ , and without thinking, his hand shot down from wheel to spike with a sharp whine.

Mirage froze, optics wide and bright, but he didn't pull away. Panic didn't crawl into his awareness. It felt ... good. Pulling Sunstreaker in for a deep kiss, Mirage rolled his hips into the touch and reveled in the fact that he'd managed it. He continued to stroke Sunstreaker's spike and kiss the yellow warrior while pleasure built in his own systems.

"...'Raj," Sideswipe breathed, panting, as he pushed himself up and looked down with bright, fixed optics, while Sunstreaker seemed to suddenly realize what he'd done and pulled back from the kiss. His hand stayed in place, curled loosely around the noble's shallow thrusts. 

"Please," Sunstreaker whispered, and he _needed_ , "Please, can you..." 

"Fill him," Sideswipe filled in the blank.

Deep in the pleasure of their fields and the need building in his frame, Mirage simply nodded and shifted to climb between Sunstreaker's spread legs. His fingers caressed the valve opening, a routine from training long ago that had instilled in him the steps that would not be broken.

Sunstreaker whined and pushed against it, fingers gripping the padding beneath them. "'Raj," he moaned. "Please, _please_."

Satisfied that his lover was slick enough, even though his analytical mind scoffed at the idea he might not be, Mirage shivered in anticipation and guided his spike to the opening before carefully sliding forward. Pleasure roared into him as the slick passage clamped down and it took all his training and desire to make this first time special to hold back and savor it.

Sunstreaker seemed to sense at least part of that as he grew stiller, squeezing experimentally around Mirage and lifting his hands to the noble's helm and neck, caressing, his optics bright with awe and pleasure. Beside them, Sideswipe groaned and the elbow he'd been holding himself up on buckled slightly as he grabbed for his twin, sharing in the new sensation with him.

It took all of Mirage's self-control to limit his reaction to an engine-deep groan at the exquisite sensation and keep his slide forward smooth and even. By the time he'd seated his spike fully inside with the housing rubbing against platelets, his armor was panting in an effort to enhance airflow and his field was electric with how _good_ this felt.

"See?" Sideswipe managed, and pushed himself back up on shaky arms after a few moments to lean in and press his mouth to Mirage's neck. 

"Yeah, 's good," Sunstreaker moaned as he tried a careful roll his hips against Mirage's spike, making the noble shudder. 

Sideswipe got himself up and moved in behind as Sunstreaker pulled his legs back to give Mirage more room. Sideswipe's spike was still hard, and with everything he was getting over the bond, aching again. As Mirage slowly pulled out, he slipped his spike carefully between the noble's thighs from behind, a move that all three had grown to enjoy. The legs tightened in around him and the twins moaned together, their caressing and holding Mirage between them.

"Fantasized about this for so long," Mirage shivered and pressed into Sunstreaker again, the slick slide causing his vocalizer to hitch several times. "Being between you, the way you've always desired."

"That was the first thing, when we started imagining you," Sideswipe groaned in agreement, hands finally settling, one on Mirage's hip and the other arm wrapped around his chest. "Having you like this." 

Sunstreaker pushed himself up on one arm and he cupped Mirage's face in his hand, turning it up to press a kiss against his mouth, having to bend forward to even reach, but it was oh so worth it for the sweet moan he got in response. "We--" he started to say, but he stammered on the word and quickly fell silent, field rippling out with feeling that was too strong to describe or even comprehend. 

Sideswipe's field was steadier, less chaotic, but just as deep as his brother's was and his lips pressed against the top of a helm vent. "We love you," he said, for both of them.

"I love you, both of you," Mirage pressed against Sideswipe's chest, fluffing his armor against the hands and reveled in the emotions of their fields. "I've wanted this for so long." He pressed deeper into Sunstreaker and leaned forward to chase the kiss he'd been given. "I've wanted _you_ for so long."

"You can go ahead and just keep saying that whenever you want," Sideswipe said with a deep, rumbling chuckle. He kept his mouth pressed warmly to Mirage's helm, feeling as much as watching his lover and brother kissing, and then he gave a low, drawn-out moan as he rubbed in between the noble's thighs and felt the answering squeeze. Mirage's valve panel was burning against him, still so tantalizingly out of reach but erotic in so many ways. 

Mirage shivered and shared his field at their words and their desire, so plainly written in their fields and frames, and allowed it to soothe the coding that was still telling him he was not worthy. His Lord said he was. The mechs he loved said he was. It would always hurt, not having his seals to give to them, but if those who should care did not, it was not his place to object.

It felt _so_ good, to be inside one, pressed between their frames, their fields, their interface arrays, all of them moving in a smooth synchronization of building bliss. Mirage didn't bother trying to stop his valve cover from sliding open when Sideswipe continued to rub his spike against him.

It made the mech against his back shake and as the length pulled back, it dragged over platelets that fluffed out invitingly as soon as they were touched, slicking the entire area and the insides of his thighs in moments. "'Raj," Sideswipe groaned.

"Feels so good," Mirage trembled between them. His pace picked up, thrusting into Sunstreaker eagerly, though never with the kind of force that Sideswipe used. His frame was _burning_ with arousal, his valve aching to be filled as his spike screamed at him with the intensity of the pleasure at being inside a mech he loved.

"Does," the twins answered in unison, Sunstreaker's thighs tightening around him, his frame pushing and pulsing in time with Mirage's, as Sideswipe's rhythm was starting to pulse in a counter-balance, pushing when Mirage pulled, sliding over, against, through with crackling friction.

With a throaty sob of raw need, and acting before he could think, Mirage shifted the angle of his hips as he was deep inside Sunstreaker and pressed back to envelope Sideswipe's thick spike, taking in a living mech for the first time since his capture.

It was pure rapture. Yes, the memories were still there. The stress and pain and ache of loss. It was the past, however, and this was now, and Mirage _wanted_ more than he feared. Finally, _finally_.

Sideswipe, on the other hand, froze with a startled yelp, before both hands went right down to Mirage's hips and he moved up and back, and Sunstreaker made an odd, strangled noise, staring down at the noble pressed between him and his brother.

"Mirage," Sideswipe managed, voice faltering a little. 

"Fill me," Mirage moaned and rippled his valve eagerly. "I _need_ this. Want you. Please...."

Another ripple of raw, unfiltered shock went through their fields before Sideswipe's engine _roared_ and Sunstreaker's optics went almost white with charge. Sideswipe pushed forward, sinking into the heat, causing Mirage to be pushed forward into Sunstreaker. "Give you anything you want," Sideswipe growled, slamming his hips forward again with a sharp groan.

"Take charge," Mirage gasped out, his field a tumble of _pleasure-right-want-YES_ as he squeezed and rippled his valve around the thick intruder. "Drive me."

"Better hold on," Sunstreaker rumbled to him as his twin shifted his weight and settled back on his knees, wrapping an arm around Mirage's waist and pulling him flush. "He's a good driver." 

"I've seen," Mirage moaned in anticipation as his entire frame relaxed, completely compliant but full of anticipation.

Sideswipe chuckled, leaned forward to press his face against the back of Mirage's neck and drew a deep intake, taking in Mirage's scent and heat, then drew back and slammed his hips forward. His shout mingled with Sunstreaker's as he set the pace for all three, pushing and pulling them in and out of each other, grunting and panting together. The twins knew this rhythm well, and in the small part of their awareness that was not consumed by pleasure they both marveled at how easily Mirage moved with them. The slender noble wasn't simply lax in Sideswipe grip. Once he knew the tempo he moved in concert with it, heightening the pleasure for all three of them.

"Yesss," Mirage hissed, his helm tossed back, mouth lax and optics bright enough he couldn't see.

"You're--nnh--you're--" 

"-- _So_ \-- _Fragging_ \-- _Good_ ," Sunstreaker panted, enraptured at finally having Mirage inside, and to have it be _now_ , erasing the last of the _Bad_ , just made it all that much better. 

" _So_ fragging good," Sideswipe groaned. " _Tight_ , 'Raj, frag, _frag!_ " Black fingers clamped down and every cable in the red frontliner's powerful frame seized and tightened as he overloaded, unable to hold on any longer, no matter how much he wanted to savor this. He didn't have it in him to resist the heat and grace of the sweet, lithe frame pressed between them and he spilled crackling hot ecstasy deep into Mirage's valve.

"Ohhhh," Mirage's moan rose to a piercing keen as the raw, physical nature of the overload crashed threw him in an unrelenting wave from the top of his valve outward. The crackling energy rushed to his spike, propelling him into a second intense overload right on the heels of the first and pumping his transfluid deep into Sunstreaker, who grabbed him and shook, first keening, something that sounded almost like a designation, and then in silence as his vocalizer shorted completely out.

The twins were still pushing when the waves finally began to fade, unable to stop or relax, stuck in an automatic motion sequence and grunting softly. Mirage made no effort to break them out of it, reveling in the sensations and how _natural_ this felt despite all he'd been lead to believe. This wasn't the act of lowly commoners who knew nothing better. This was something amazing he was sharing with two mechs who loved him. Something he never expected to have directed his way. Not with the intensity they felt.

"More," Mirage gasped out, flexing his valve and rocking into the motions to increase the sensation for them all as the charge built once more.

It made them moan, and they were past words and very nearly past comprehension, but with an offer like that, with _their_ noble, _theirs_ , the wanting, possessive hunger flared immediately back up and within kliks, they were completely started back up again and it didn't stop until Sunstreaker collapsed offline, breaking the cycle. 

Mirage sagged forward, spent, and Sideswipe curled around him, trembling. "You," he managed, a single, reverential glyph.

"Us," Mirage got the reply out as his own energy levels flickered into the critical. "We. Always."

"Mmm." Sideswipe rumbled deep in his chest and carefully rolled them both to the side, staying deeply lodged in the noble, one arm possessively around him and the other stretched out to hold onto his twin's wrist. "'S't good?"

"Very good," Mirage smiled and reached out with his field to embrace his lovers before sinking gratefully offline.

* * *

Mirage was forced to leave the room before the twins were, when Optimus summoned all his command officers together for the first time after the beating they'd taken in the battle that nearly lost them Ratchet and Sunstreaker, among so many others. He untangled from his drowsy lovers, kissed them both, wiped himself clean as best as he could, and slipped out into the hallway to make his way down to the washracks. 

Once he was clean he took a moment to miss the polish washes of his youth and started up towards the old archive building. It was still standing, the last symbol of what Cybertron had been, and still the stronghold of the Autobots. It was barely recognizable with all the fortification, but it was standing. 

He knew the moment Jazz started following him and pretended not to--it was useful in many ways for his commander to believe he was still capable of tricking his SIC--waiting until Jazz stepped into visual range before looking at him and tilting his helm in acknowledgement. 

"How is Sunstreaker?" Jazz asked.

"Presentable, as sane as usual and in recharge," Mirage summed things up.

"Good," Jazz nodded as he matched his pace to Mirage's and they walked several paces in silence, before Mirage suddenly felt a very focused teeking and looked over to see Jazz staring at him with rapt attention. "Oh," he said, and his grin was giant. "Oh, you got fragged! You got so completely fragged!"

"Not ... _completely_." Mirage gave his Lord a sideways glance and shy smile.

Jazz raised an optic ridge at him. "Not completely how? You teek very, incredibly, thoroughly, well and truly fragged fragged." 

"We did not hardline, or touch sparks, not even physically. Also they did not switch places," Mirage reported with all the dignity of it being the normal exchange it was, back where they'd been created.

"Mm. I'd be pretty impressed if you'd managed all that in one go," Jazz said, and then he was grinning again. "Plenty of time for that later. The rest of it, though! It's great, right? With mechs you actually like?"

"I like them very much," Mirage's voice was steady, but his field was giddy. "I like being with them very much," he gave into the deep purr his engine wanted to announce. "I'm going to enjoy exploring the rest of our options. I don't have the Praxian coding, but I think this might be what you had. Three is perfect. Two is wonderful, but missing something. Being between them is _perfection_."

Jazz hummed deeply in agreement, visor flickering off for a few moments as he dipped down into memories of just that. "Being on the outside isn't bad, either," he purred, as his vision came back online. "You," he said, "Are going to tell me everything. At least all the interesting bits, leave the boring parts out. Oh and if you ever need tips or ideas, let me know. It's so good, it's _so good_. Sorry," he added with a grin. "Little bit excited and Autobots can be such _prudes_ sometimes."

Mirage laughed lightly and easily. "That they can be. Your advice has been wonderful so far. I watched, and touched and then Sunstreaker was pleading for me to spike him when his brother was done. It felt _amazing_. Nothing at all like the physical reaction when I didn't want it," he got a decidedly dreamy look on his features. "When Sideswipe recovered he rubbed against my valve rim and I just could not _stand_ not to be filled. It _ached_ so much, and felt _so_ wonderful when he was sure I wouldn't freak out. I could tell they had the bond fully open, sharing everything they felt with the other. It was _amazing_. Simply amazing. I believe I understand what you said about your first time with Prowl, when you could finally offer your entire frame to him. It was healing in a way I never imagined possible. I'll never forget how I lost my seals, but it's not as distressing as it used to be."

Jazz just smiled as his listened. "It keeps getting easier," he promised. "Some orns you won't think about it at all. Especially with proper lovers to focus on. The coding helps take care of some of it," he tilted his head to the side and tapped his helm, "Keeps you properly focused on your Intended once you've healed enough for it to have a chance at being noticed. First creations _do_ like to be the center of attention and adoration," he added with a grin.

"Mmm, yes, and it was very enjoyable to have them be the center of attention," Mirage purred softly. "We spent joors working on Sunstreaker's finish until he was _perfect_. I never thought it could be so relaxing to polish _someone else_. It didn't feel like being a servant at all, not like I expected. It felt _good_."

"Just gets better, too," Jazz said as they headed inside. "Oh, I know it's because of the programming, but I really can't complain about the high. It's a _great_ high. Just you wait."

"I look forward to it," Mirage said, his voice dropping when they were no longer alone.

"Yeah, fragging is probably the best gift ever given to Cybertronian kind," Jazz told him in a conspiratorial whisper as they joined into the flow of ranking mecha making their way to the Prime's summons.

"Definitely," Mirage purred deeply as they moved their way towards the other high-ranking command officers near Prime and Prowl on the small podium stage. "Do you know what this is about?"

Jazz nodded, smile gone.

Mirage took the silence as a statement that this was Prime's announcement to make and quietly waited, taking note of who was there, and who wasn't. Though it was larger than officer meetings by several times, the lowest ranking mecha there were gestalt leaders. Most were at least division commanders, though with the beating their forces had taken most of those divisions would soon be unified into two at most. Until Prowl did that, however, their rank held.

Five kliks later, when the doors were closed, everyone hushed down and Prime stood, looking grim. "I'll get right to the point," he said. "We are abandoning Cybertron. It is the option with the highest chance of survival for as many Autobots as possible, and preparations have already begun. Our scouts are gathering as much energy as they can from around the planet to help us survive until we reach a new world to inhabit. We believe the Decepticons will not follow us." 

Mirage's field went completely still as his processor skipped several times, looping the statement around and around. Distantly he wondered if this was what a glitch felt like, but he doubted it. Somewhere in the Ops-controlled part of himself he noted that he was far from the only one in evident shock. It was fairly easy to pick out who'd been told ahead of time, or at least had figured out this was coming.

He listened to the rest of Optimus's short speech in that same, removed center of his processor, trying to grasp the concept of _leaving_. Cybertron was _home_. What had they been fighting for, if it wasn't their _home?_

"Anyone who wishes to stay may do so," Optimus was saying, "But there will be no official Autobot protection here. I'm not asking anyone to keep this a secret, at least among fellow Autobots. Ultra Magnus and I will be available for any questions or concerns, and you should direct any logistical queries to Prowl. I'm..." The Prime hesitated for a moment. "I'm sorry that it has come to this. I am not unaware that there are those who question the choices I have made, choices that might have seemed to be too lenient against the Decepticons. I stand by every single one, and will continue to do so. Your commanding officers will be in touch with further details. We hope to evacuate in three decaorns."

The room remained silent for a painful half klik, then the murmurs began. Confusion seemed to dominate, but it wasn't long before there was a clear divide happening. Those who were loyal to the Prime, and those who were loyal to Cybertron.

Where did Mirage fall?

The second creation did the only thing he was capable of: he looked to his Lord.

Jazz glanced his way immediately and lifted a finger to his lips, _Later_ , before returning his attention back to the Prime. 

Mirage waited unhappily until it became appropriate for division command officers to leave and Jazz followed him out. 

"I'm staying with Prowl, Prowl is staying with Prime," Jazz said. "The twins will likely stay wherever you choose, but..." He looked as unhappy as Mirage felt. "We'd like it, if all three of you came. Prime wants to find a world we can settle and rebuild on. Something empty, to build our strength back up and take Cybertron back when we have the force for it. Right now, without dramatically adjusting Prowl's parameters for acceptable loss, we can't do anything." 

"Then I will come," Mirage said simply. "Do Smokescreen and Bluestreak know yet?"

"Not that I know of, but I'm sure they will soon," Jazz said, outwardly calm but his field practically sagged with relief at Mirage's answer. "I'll let you tell twins, unless you'd rather Prowl did so."

"I will ask them to come," Mirage said softly as he headed back to his quarters. "What of our agents?"

"I've been working on it," Jazz said, shaking his head. "You're going in to see who you can break out once Flamespire gets back. Probably two or three more orns. Until then, you're off duty."

"Understood," Mirage nodded, his entire manner shifting to the professional SpecOps agent he was. "I will be ready."

"Yeah, I know," Jazz said, and then grinned. "Until then just have some fun."

Light flashed across Mirage's serious features as he tried to control the _mirth-excitement_ in his field. "I intend to. I hope you do as well, at least once an orn," he nodded and picked up the pace of his walk to his quarters, eager to see his lovers, even if he wasn't eager to talk to them about the announcement.

He was pounced almost the moment he walked in the door by a very excited Sideswipe who wrapped his arms around him and lifted him right off the ground, squeezing tightly. "There you are!" the red twin cheered. "So that was the best _ever_ you have no idea!"

"I think I might," Mirage smiled and relaxed into the grip as he claimed a kiss. "There is so much more to try as well. I have two to three orns off duty."

"That's a weird schedule," Sideswipe said, setting Mirage back down and nuzzling. Before Mirage got a chance to even begin to explain what he'd learned, Sideswipe glanced back at his twin, who was sitting with uncharacteristic stillness on the berth, his hands clasped tightly together. "So listen, um, Sunny and I were talking about it, we think it would be okay if he spiked me when you're around, now. Since he's felt your field in something pretty similar."

Desire and excitement flared brightly in Mirage's field and his optics light a bit more. "I would love to witness that."

Sideswipe grinned hugely and Sunstreaker's armor rippled in mild agitation despite Memor's effort to nuzzle him. "Great," the red twin said. "Right Sunny?"

"Yeah, great," Sunstreaker glared, but softened quickly when he saw Mirage rapidly calculating a way to back out. "Just don't want to hurt you. It's not like there's even supplies to fix armor like yours anymore."

"I am faster than you. I will run if you are not yourself," Mirage promised.

Sunstreaker nodded, visibly uncomfortable even with that promise. 

"And I'll happily put a few dents in you rather than let you hurt Mirage," Sideswipe offered cheerfully, stepping towards his brother and drawing him up into his pedes and then into a kiss. "Promise."

The yellow mech huffed, but nodded and began to relax. "You would, too."

"Always and forever," Sideswipe grinned as Mirage slipped a bit further away to sit down in a chair brought over from the desk. He could teek at this range, watch the frames of his mates heat and rouse, but he was out of grabbing range.

Sideswipe was turning and drawing Sunstreaker back towards the berth so that his legs hit first, and he sank down, head tilted back to keep their mouths pressed together, Sunstreaker leaning easily over him and then pushing him down. They shifted smoothly, never any question of what the other was going to do, until the younger twin had his brother pinned in a straddle. Mirage could tell the exact moment their focus shifted from him to each other, the way their fields sharpened and their optics brightened intensely when they met, their touches getting _harder_ , more purposeful.

Sideswipe spread his legs out and nudged his hips. "Been too long," he said, his voice tight.

"Far, far too long," Sunstreaker moaned, his armor flaring in a mixture of display and to vent heat. His spike panel slid open to release his spike in a single smooth motion. Even when they were spiking each other with fairly even regularity, neither was much on foreplay and the coaxing that Mirage loved.

He was used to it and expected it by now, and already had his fingers dipping into his collar, playing at the wiring there as he listened to Sideswipe's valve cover snap back just nanokliks before Sunstreaker drove into him with a roar from his engines. Sideswipe shouted, head tossed back and hands on Sunstreaker's shoulders as the yellow twin began to thrust, hips pistoning against his brother's. 

And in a matter of moments, sharp blue optics had locked onto him as a growl came up from Sunstreaker's chassis. Staking, claiming, _his_ , and Mirage was a threat.

Prepared and well used to his more volatile lover by now Mirage pressed his field outward, caressing Sunstreaker all the way to his spark. He felt Sideswipe do much the same, though he wasn't privy to the pulsing assurances sent over the bond.

The growl quieted, a little, and it took nearly a full klik of Sunstreaker regarding him with suspicion before he looked down at his brother, who took his face in his hands and touched their helms together, optics locked. 

Sunstreaker certainly wasn't _happy_ about the presence of a third, but he was very slowly coming to accept it, his armor relaxing back down from the threat display, and then almost as quickly as it had started, it stopped, and he was pounding forward again. Recognition came slowly, but it was growing.

Mirage pushed his thanks, his submission, his utter lack of being a threat into his field along with the intense arousal generated by this act he had never been permitted to witness before. He felt it when Sideswipe was certain that Sunstreaker was calm as the red mech let go completely to revel in this much-missed attention from his brother.

Teeking the total submission and focus, Sunstreaker curled around him, holding tightly and grunting as he pushed. It was fast, focused solely on chasing the overload down. Their interfacing could normally be measured in kliks, possibly a couple breems, and Mirage was content to relax and watch, not expecting to have enough time to even begin to work himself into the tactile overload that he was in the mood for before they finished. Sunstreaker would overload and then he could crawl into berth with them. 

So when Sunstreaker stopped suddenly, and looked at him, and _whined_ , Mirage froze, uncertain if it was a good or a bad thing. 

Sideswipe groaned in frustration at the sudden lack of movement as he shook himself and tried to focus, then his gaze also went to Mirage. "He wants you over here," the red twin said, and there was no small amount of shock and amazement in his voice. 

"Anything," Mirage's voice conveyed his awe and honor as he hurried to join the twins. Taking a risk, he sank onto the berth right next to them and pressed against Sunstreaker's mouth in a hungry kiss to express how much he _desired_ them. A deep purr was his response before the yellow mech decided that finally, all was well, and returned happily to rutting into his brother, this time with one arm curled around Mirage and keeping him pulled close. 

His overload came with a roar that was quickly followed by Sideswipe's as the twins shook and seized together, their charge slamming into Mirage everywhere their frames came into contact. The noble moaned and pressed into it, delighting in sharing this with them and suddenly feeling daring enough to have Sunstreaker on top of him.

When the yellow warrior teeked reasonably coherent, Mirage claimed Sideswipe's mouth, then turned for a kiss from Sunstreaker. "Do you have a round for me in you?"

Sunstreaker nodded with a rumble and hefted himself up and over, pushing Mirage into his back. "Won' be able to stop," he muttered. "Tell Sides if you need me off."

"I will," Mirage promised with everything that was second creation obedience. He reached up and slid his hands along Sunstreaker's shoulders to his neck and drew him down for a kiss as he spread his legs and slid his valve cover open. There was a flicker of nervousness, but no fear. Mirage did not fear these mecha.

In the next moment, Sunstreaker slammed forward, and Mirage could feel how a poor quality, dry valve could get torn by this spike, as a massive burst of sensory data from his valve peaked and whited everything else out. Friction, heat, stretch, _good_ , pulling and charge and oh, _Primus_ he was going to be sore but it was also going to be completely worth it. 

As soon as he was buried, Sunstreaker's teek shifted again, back to what Mirage had felt when he'd been in his brother. Savage and claiming, primitive in the extreme, but ... _protective_.

Mirage reveled in being in that same category in Sunstreaker's base coding. It was an incredible accomplishment. He moaned, rolled his hips into the rutting thrusts and offered his throat. His field reached out to encompass both brothers to express his joy in this dual victory. This kind of interfacing with anyone else would have triggered the worst of Mirage's nightmares. Coming from Sunstreaker, the _protective_ nature mixed with how much Mirage _wanted_ to be claimed by this specific mech, made what could have been a horrifying flashback into pleasure to be welcomed.

Sideswipe curled next to him, just as gleeful, pressing his mouth to Mirage's throat next to Sunstreaker's. It got him a snarling protest, but as the red twin just nudged back with a nip and his own growl, Mirage realized it was play more than anything else. He gripped the powerful shoulders above him, hanging on and trying not to let his joyful laughter distract them from each other. 

It only lasted kliks, before Sunstreaker's focus was suddenly and completely on him again. The pounding felt like it might even be putting dents into his pelvis, and he could no longer distinguish _push_ from _pull_ but for the visual direction Sunstreaker was moving in. A heave, a grunt, and a slamming forward was the only warning Mirage had for Sunstreaker's overload. Thick fluid saturated in energy rushed into him in bursts, setting off every sensor in Mirage's valve while the energy from the overload itself surged across their connected frames in a bliss all its own.

Mirage's high was light, generated as much by coding as contact, but it felt marvelous all the same as he keened and arched into Sunstreaker, their frames grinding together and completely out of their control.

It didn't stop after that, the pounding or the movement, any of it, and Sunstreaker moved like he had barely noticed his overload, driving into Mirage again and again until the yellow warrior collapsed, spent and panting, some overloads later. Mirage tried to crawl up out of the pleasured daze enough to be coherent, but quickly felt two helms nuzzling him. 

"Recharge," he heard in Sideswipe's voice, and Mirage thought he remembered feeling and hearing the older twin overloading next to them several times all on his own.

"Need to talk soon," Mirage murmured even as systems began to willingly comply with the order.

"M'kay," Sideswipe hummed, as Sunstreaker rumbled in understanding and some concern. Mirage reached out to soothe him with his field and Sunstreaker pressed back, somehow finding enough energy to teek for pain or injury, and upon finding none, slipped offline, his lover and brother following immediately after.

* * *

By the time Mirage was fully online again, he found himself settled securely between the twins, who were both propped up on their elbows and looking down at him. 

"Do you hurt anywhere?" Sideswipe asked as soon as the yellow optics had brightened.

"Only the welcome ache of a well-used valve," Mirage promised as he reached up to caress the yellow warrior's face. "You did not damage me."

"Good," Sunstreaker sighed in relief, turning into the hand. "Said we needed to talk?"

"Mm, yes," Mirage couldn't quite hide his distress. "The meeting I went to yesterday was more of an announcement. The Prime has decided to abandon Cybertron and take all who will come to a new world."

"Oh," the twins said in stunned, flat shock. 

"So..." Sideswipe said after a klik. 

"Are you going?" Sunstreaker blurted. 

Mirage nodded slightly, still very uneasy about the choice. "I'd like you both to come."

"Of course," came the easy, synchronous reply. 

"Cybertron isn't really ... _home_ ," Sideswipe said. "It never gave us anything." 

"'Cept you," Sunstreaker said. "So we're going where you are. And the Autobots. Most importantly you." 

"If you wanted to stay, we'd stay here to protect you," Sideswipe said, and Mirage had to fight to keep his composure at that promise, unsure if the twins realized just how much that meant to him. "But there isn't much of a planet anymore." 

Mirage gave a tiny sob at the truth of that, but his field gave a much stronger thanks for their loyalty and he burrowed into Sideswipe. "He wants to rebuild our numbers there."

Sunstreaker's field stammered through several different emotions, most of them being some variant of nervousness and shock. "Um--rebuild, like--like--" 

"Yes, like sparklings," Sideswipe told his brother, reaching around and swatting his helm fin. "The frag are _you_ so worried for?" 

"Do I seem at _all_ capable of taking care of tiny breakable things?" Sunstreaker asked, his voice going up in pitch. 

Mirage rolled over to face him and pulled him into a long, gentle kiss. "It doesn't bother you we won't have bonded yet?"

"U-uhm," was all Sunstreaker could manage. 

"Not really?" Sideswipe said, shrugging. "Whatsit matter for?"

Mirage allowed his armor to express the tolerant huff and actually laughed a bit. "Because I still occasionally forget you have no clue as to the natural order of things." He sobered quickly and curled against Sunstreaker's strong armor. "It's unsettling to think of carrying without so much as a contract, the shame it should bring to my Lord, my creators, even though I know he'll be ecstatic."

"Not like it's gonna be tonight," Sideswipe said easily, mostly to try to soothe his stressed twin. "Plenty of time to talk about it and figure stuff like that out, see what Jazz will let us do." 

"'You had us out of a bonding already, anyway," Sunstreaker said. "...Kind of."

"True," Mirage nuzzled Sunstreaker. "It won't be for vorns. So much has to happen before sparklings do."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker said, and sagged in obvious relief. "Sorry, just ... never imagined things like sparklings being our life. Was always just kinda..." He shrugged. "Live long enough to refuel, do it again." 

"And frag," Sideswipe added helpfully.

"I was created to carry and care for them, manage a small House and please my bonded," Mirage's tone and field took on a dreamy quality the twins now recognized as him remembering what life would have been for him without the war. "I always looked forward to feeling a new life inside me."

Sideswipe reached across the bond and seized his brother before he could panic again and nuzzled the back of Mirage's neck. "First we get wherever we're going, and then we'll do what we can to give that to you."

Mirage trilled in delight and nodded. "I don't want to raise a sparkling before it can be safe. I can wait vorns," he reached down to tease Sunstreaker's valve cover. "I did for you, for this."

Sunstreaker rumbled with approval of the touch and rolled onto his back, bringing Mirage over him as the cover snapped away. 

"Am I driving, then?" Sideswipe chuckled, turned Mirage's face toward him for a strut-melting kiss, and moved in behind, ready to spend as much of Mirage's off duty time as possible doing exactly this.

"Yes," Mirage moaned as he shivered in raw anticipation.


	9. Earth Has Its Perks

Sideswipe felt himself begin to boot up and wondered at his own confusion at it happening. His spark told him that Sunstreaker was alive, though not yet rousing. He couldn't remember going offline, which meant it had been sudden and violent, an assessment that his gradually increasing awareness of how much rebuilding his frame had sustained backed up.

His processors felt hazy and slow, like pushing thought and awareness through them wasn't coming quickly or easily, and the sudden _need_ to know what had happened and if Mirage was alive pushed him into an incredibly rapid boot sequence, one that left his entire head aching before he'd even onlined his optics. 

"Fraggit, that's just what you _weren't_ supposed to do," a familiar voice growled above him.

"'Raj," Sideswipe gasped out why.

"He's fine--not online yet, but fine," Ratchet said. "He had some trickier repairs and I want 'Jack on hand when I get him booted up."

"Prowl, Smokey, Prime?" Sideswipe relaxed and fed the _all's good_ sensation across the bond to his brother.

"All just fine," Ratchet said calmly, and Sideswipe became aware of the medic poking around in his processor. "Everyone who was on board, actually. Amazingly. ... Unfortunately."

"Cons too," Sideswipe sighed. "So this world's not Prime's safe haven."

"Not even close," Ratchet snorted. "Especially considering the organic lifeforms that have completely overrun the entire surface. Not a single square hic is not _crawling_ with them, not that we can tell so far, anyway."

"Joy," Sideswipe groaned. "State of the ship?"

"Ehh..." Ratchet said. "Well, look on the bright side, since we were forced into taking off before everyone got on board, we didn't need most of it anyway."

"So repairs are going to take ages," the frontliner groaned. "Not fun."

"Not in the slightest," Ratchet agreed, and Sideswipe felt his vision systems switched on. "There, you're all set, but you're going to have a massive processor ache, you moron. C'mon, help me get your sunnier half online."

"You could have left a note in my queue and I wouldn't have pushed it. I'm not difficult to predict," Sideswipe snipped back as he reluctantly pushed himself to his pedes and took a look around, assessing the damage and state of the crew in his own way. Ratchet snapped something about being a little busy and preoccupied but Sideswipe didn't fully register it as his gaze lingered on Mirage, laid out in stasis but looking good. Jazz was curled around Prowl's upper frame protectively, plugged in but his now wingless frame didn't hold the tension of fear or grief. Optimus was standing, trying to get the main computer to come up. Wheeljack was helping Smokescreen back online, Ironhide was sitting next to them with his helm in his hands. Everyone else was still offline. "We're fragged if they come back."

"Why do you think we're getting you terrors online first?" Ratchet said as he walked over to Sunstreaker. "By the way ... you should check your chronometer and have that dealt with before he's online."

Sideswipe gave Ratchet a weird look but complied, and choked as he wobbled. "What the _frag?_ "

"Like I said," Ratchet muttered. "We got knocked into emergency stasis and we're only now coming back online. 'Cons too, at least. I have no doubt we'd be scrap if they'd been around that whole time."

Sideswipe wobbled a little longer and looked around again. His brother was alive. Mirage was alive. Smokescreen, Prowl, even Jazz and ... "Blue?"

"We'll get to him," Ratchet waved in the direction of the gray Praxian. "He's stable."

Sideswipe nodded mutely, turned his optics off and settled by putting all thought of how long they'd been in stasis out of his awareness. Those he cared about had survived. That was all that mattered.

That, and, "New alts?" he finally put together what some of his HUD notices meant when he took a better look at his brother, then Jazz. It was only with that closer look that told him that Jazz wasn't missing his doorwings, but had been rebuilt without them for some reason.

"The sentient land organics have developed mechanical transportation," Ratchet began in way of explanation as he plugged into Sunstreaker's neck port. "Lacking Cybertronian equipment for all the needed repairs, Teletraan I rebuilt our alts based on those designs." 

Sideswipe sighed and focused on the other half of his spark, forcing feelings of calm and safety through it.

He felt his brother's awareness slam into his several kliks later, a much more turbulent booting than his own as Sunstreaker clawed for him across the bond. 

"Half a klik," Ratchet said. "He's still stuck in the crash moment. Keep him calm." 

"Right," Sideswipe mumbled as he accepted the terror, the combat lock, and pushed back just as hard with _safe_ and _calm down_.

Stuttered uncertainty came back, because as far as Sunstreaker could tell, everything was _Not All Right_ , but neither of them ever promised that kind of calm unless they _knew_ it was safe, without any doubt, and the terror subsided. 

Almost half a klik later, as promised, Ratchet got the memory loop to cut and Sunstreaker's field settled and pressed into Sideswipe's. ~What...?~ he asked.

~Battle ended in the Ark crashing planetside. Somewhere organic. Everybody's recovering, including Mirage. He's not out of stasis yet. They need warriors. Cons survived too. They left.~

Sunstreaker relaxed as soon as he heard that Mirage was okay. And then, ~Ugh, organic?~

~Yeah. New alts too. Don't look too terrible. You're still that lovely shade of yellow,~

~New _what?_ ~ Sunstreaker yelped, and there was a sudden struggle to be online as quickly as possible. Ratchet and Sideswipe working together managed to keep him down, with no small amount of growling from the medic, and Sunstreaker pressed into Sideswipe's memory. ~Show.~

Sideswipe complied and brought up an image of Sunstreaker's new frame as it lay there. ~See. Not too bad. Another excuse to _explore_ with Raj again.~

Sunstreaker's frame rumbled at the idea and he held calm if not entirely content until Ratchet cleared his processor and lifted him up into full awareness. Sunstreaker immediately looked around, just like Sideswipe had, to take in surroundings and look at Mirage to reassure himself. 

"Chronometer," Ratchet told him brusquely before standing and moving onto Trailbreaker. 

Sunstreaker gave him the same bewildered look as Sideswipe had before glancing at it, and then he _choked_. " _What?_ "

"Try not to think about it," Sideswipe could only shrug. "It's not like we were ever going back."

"Yeah but ... 'Raj," Sunstreaker said quietly, his gaze going over to their stasis-locked lover. "He ... barely wanted to even leave." 

"We'll just have to make him like it here, with us." Sideswipe murmured, honestly uncertain how to do that. "Besides, Jazz'll take most of that flack."

"True," Sunstreaker rumbled, and settled in with his twin to wait out the long, slow process of bringing everyone else online. 

Most of them ended up looking shell-shocked and sitting in corners, some of them huddling in pairs or small groups. After Bluestreak was brought online, Sideswipe noticed him curling up to Smokescreen, who looked surprised, but not displeased. Finally, Ratchet and Wheeljack both moved onto Mirage. That was enough to get the twins to move, but they kept back enough, hovering just out of the way with only their fields intruding into the space.

The first sign of Mirage being functional was when he went translucent.

Sunstreaker whined--it meant their lover was in distress--but managed to stay back and let Ratchet work. That alone was amazing in and of itself, and testament to how much the twins had grown to trust their medic, and it was rewarded after a few kliks when Mirage slowly faded back into full opaqueness. 

It took nearly fifteen kliks before Ratchet allowed Mirage to boot fully. He looked grim as he helped the noble up to his pedes and gestured the twins over. "You three stick together."

"And remain here," Optimus said, looking over from where he was talking to Hound. "We have no way to tell if the Decepticons are nearby, but it is likely they are aware of our location and could be back."

Ratchet huffed. "Best get it over with," he told the twins before heading to Bumblebee. 

Mirage gave him a confused look as he stepped gladly into their arms and let them draw him to the side. "What's..." He trailed off, looking between them, and then out at the rest of the room of shocked looking mecha. "We're all alive, why does everyone look so..."

Sideswipe sighed, wrapping his arms around him. "Check your chronometer," he said in a low voice. 

Mirage's field turned uneasy, and then--

"O- _oh_ ," he cried, grabbing at Sideswipe, and then wailed. "No-- _no--!_ "

His distress seemed to make the rest of the room tense anxiously and Sideswipe tried to soothe him as they lowered him down to the ground and both twins curled around him, protective and trying to help the only way they knew how: through touch.

"We're alive and here," Sunstreaker tried to comfort with words and by standing guard, more uncomfortable with touching than his twin was in public and hovering, hands light against Mirage's back. "There wasn't much left anyway."

"There might not even be a _planet_ anymore!" Mirage moaned, shaking from distress alone. "There was a chance, there was always a _chance_ \--" He broke off, pressed his helm to Sideswipe's chest, and shuddered in silence.

"Vorns don't change that," Sideswipe murmured, stroking Mirage's vents.

"Some vorns do," Mirage said, but he was calming rapidly, leaning back heavily onto Ops protocols to help him focus on the _now_ , leaving the _was_ for later when it could be afforded. He resettled his armor, once, twice, gathered himself, and lifted his chin in proud composure. "I'm all right."

The twins glanced at each other, then nodded their acceptance. Their fields spoke of being there when Mirage had the time to really process everything. It wasn't long before they'd settled into a semi-normal public display. Sideswipe and Mirage were in some state of leaning on each other in a corner where all their backs were protected while Sunstreaker watched outward, guarding his small family from anything that might come.

They watched as Hound and Cliffjumper went out, and as time went on with nothing happening, everyone seemed to group and settle down. Mirage could even relax against Sideswipe, and then smirked as Prowl came online and was quickly dragged away by his mate. 

"How come they don't hafta stay?" Sideswipe demanded of Optimus. 

Optimus gave him a weary look. "Would they have listened? Plus, Hound and Cliffjumper are now in the field to give us better updates of threats." 

"Makes sense," Mirage murmured, content to stay where he was.

* * *

Sunstreaker's snarl, for once, didn't make everyone within ten paces cringe despite the rage it expressed. Between being roughly outmaneuvered by the Decepticons, getting a long and complete immersion in salt water, being coated in thick, sticky unrefined organic fuel and dealing with the organics that their Prime insisted were so important, no one was in a good mood and everyone knew that as long as they didn't touch, the terror twins wouldn't lash out. They and their noble, and everyone else for that matter, were far too focused on getting the nasty stuff off and out of their frames before it became a Ratchet issue.

"Why--the _frag_ \--doesn't it just rinse off?" Mirage snarled, wiping at his arm and the black stain on it. The rinse was lukewarm at best, running at half power, and mixed in with freshwater from the planet's surface. It was highly ineffective. "Why do they even-- _frag!_ " he cursed, something that got looks, because no one among them could remember Mirage ever cursing in public, much less so violently. 

"The humans said that certain chemicals they've developed are more effective," Beachcomber chimed in helpfully. "Soap. It's what they wash their vehicles with, Prime's seeing if he can get some. We can make it too, but it'll take longer."

"How long will that take?" Sideswipe asked, trying his best to put on his social, friendly face when he was feeling as violated as his brother and lover. "This stuff is evil."

"If it's on us much longer, Ratchet is going to murder that species," someone snickered.

"It's not _that_ bad," Hound said. "The local H2O washes away the sodium chloride rather effectively. The solvent we need was a small market even before the war, we're lucky they have something that works that they're willing to give us."

"I think there's a _life form_ crawling inside me!" a rather hysterical voice rose over the chatter.

"You always have to have it so much worse than everyone, Cliffjumper," someone snapped.

"But I can feel it _moving!_ " Cliffjumper wailed. 

Hound shook his head and grabbed the minibot, forcefully shoving him towards the washrack door. "Then we'd better go put it back before it gets killed in your chassis." 

"I'll go with you!" Beachcomber said, and the three bots disappeared through the door. 

Mirage stared after them. "It--I-- _what?_ Are they insane?"

"Musta gotten in their processors," Sunstreaker muttered, scrubbing frantically at his bumper, trying to get all the inanimate organic growth out from where it was tangled. 

" _It can do that?_ " The choking squeaking keen Mirage made was something between horrified and hysterical before he forced himself to calm down.

"Those two never were normal. Offworld scouts and all," Sideswipe tried to settle both of them. "Part of their core coding to like this stuff."

"Not. _Natural_ ," Mirage said fervently, then glanced around the crowded room and looked imploringly at Sideswipe while touching his hood. 

The red twin cocked his head, then his optics brightened in comprehension and he came over to stand protectively behind Mirage as he faced the wall and opened his chest to allow the water and cleaner mix to flow inside his chassis, helping to flush out the liquid they'd been immersed in. 

"Hey guys! Soap!" came Bumblebee's cheerful greeting, startling Mirage badly enough that his chest plates snapped immediately shut and he went translucent for a moment.

"Give." Tracks was on him immediately, optics bright and field ragged with need.

Bumblebee handed over one of the tubes and Sunstreaker was there next, snarling at the other first creation to make him back off with just the one, then took his own and moved aside for Bumblebee to get rushed by everyone else now that the biggest threat was out of the way. No one wanted to get between Sunstreaker and being clean.

As Sideswipe watched, to his amazement, Sunstreaker took the tube and went to Mirage, and even though the effort of it made him obviously tense and even unhappy, offered it to the noble. Mirage brightened in surprise and utter delight, then was caught between accepting the gift and insisting that his first creation mate be clean first. After a pause just long enough to be noticed by all three, Mirage smiled, accepted it and motioned Sunstreaker to get under the spray.

He ducked under the rinse gratefully and Sideswipe stepped over to shield both of them with his own frame. 

~That was generous,~ he praised his twin. 

Sunstreaker didn't reply, just made something like a grumble over the bond. He heard the tube open and then a washrag was against his back, cleaning the black gunk away with the local solvent. Long smooth strokes mixed with scrubbing when needed, and Sunstreaker could _feel_ his plating coming clean. He began purring almost as soon as the shock wore off, leaning into the contact. Sideswipe hummed from the bliss that radiated over the bond, a sharp contrast to the sour anxiety that he'd been feeling since they got back. 

Of the three, he'd made it out with the least amount of crude oil sticking to him and it had taken him less time to clean than the other two. He came up behind Mirage and started washing his back, and felt a very pleasant ripple in the noble's field in response as the soap was handed back so he could use some of it. Split three ways there wouldn't be enough, but it was enough to last them until Bumblebee came back with more.

"Why not bring them all at once?" Bluestreak asked as he took a second tube and went back to helping Smokescreen.

"The humans only sell them in 1/100th of a cube containers in the stores that were open. So Spike and Sparkplug are pouring those into these," the minibot explained with clear happiness that they now had a couple natives to ask questions of. "We cleared out every store along their nearest main road."

Mirage made a despairing groaning sound. "Why couldn't they be normal sized organics?" 

"And most of the other species on the planet are actually _smaller_ than them," Sunstreaker grumbled. "There were dead ones splattered all over my bumper."

"Invertebrates," Hound supplied. "The air is full of them, even here in the desert."

Mirage and the twins were both willing and experienced at tuning out Hound as he rattled on about the local flora and fauna. It was recorded, filtered and broken down into useful data by a background algorithm, but they didn't actually listen to him. Being between the twins, even in such a mundane and purposeful way, made Mirage think of other times he'd been between them and he forcefully suppressed a moan as Sideswipe's hand began cleaning one of his tires.

"Heard that," Sideswipe teased, voice low. 

"I am _not_ clean yet," Sunstreaker growled.

"Neither am I," Mirage agreed, but he worked a little harder to make it go faster. He wanted to find out if their quarters had survived, if _Memor_ had survived, if he had anything left of Cybertron beyond his memories and his lovers.

It took a painfully long time, even with Sideswipe as an extra pair of hands, and just as they were relaxed enough to start rubbing together, as Sunstreaker's engine began to rumble in the beginnings of a purr, they were unpleasantly interrupted by the clearing of a vocalizer.

The washrack had emptied out to them and Tracks and all four looked up to see Prowl standing there, stiffly formal. 

"There was a communication error," the Praxian informed them. "When we translated 'tomorrow' from the humans, we applied our time units. We failed to realize that they meant approximately two joors. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, your presence is required at the meeting with Prime."

The pair grumbled but made quick work of drying off so they were at least sort of presentable, and managed to miss the glance and flick of armor Mirage cast to Prowl.

Prowl shook his head once and Mirage tilted his helm forward in acknowledgement.

Prowl waited and watched until the twins had trudged off to attend the Prime, and then looked at Mirage. "If the humans' definition of 'tomorrow' is to serve as example, I expect I can have them back to you within a matter of groons."

"Thank you, sir," Mirage kept his voice and posture formal, even as his field brushed against Prowl's with the familiarity of kin. "I would investigate what may be left of our quarters, if there is nothing more pressing for me to do."

Prowl canted his doorwings in permission and understanding before turning to follow after the twins. 

Mirage watched him go, then looked at Tracks, who was giving him a rather smug look in return. "Do you have something to say to me?" he asked with all the cold haughtiness he could manage. 

"If you'd been on _my_ arm I wouldn't be degrading you by offering you _anything_ before I was satisfied," Tracks sniffed at him.

"Because you only care for yourself," Mirage replied sweetly before turning to leave, snubbing the first creation even more fully.

He found their quarters quickly, in the same block as Prime's, close to those that Jazz and Prowl had shared near the back of the ship, and crept around the corner. 

His crates had tumbled around, but they appeared intact. He'd have to open them in order to check the belongings inside, but at least he hadn't gotten partially unpacked before the crash. His first move was to set the berth to rights. The frame was welded to the floor, but the padding had been flung around. It didn't take long before he was satisfied that could offer himself to his lovers and he went looking for the crate with Memor in it.

His fingers brushed over the turbofox's synthetic fur and he lifted the little mechanimal up and out, fingers skimming along its back to feel for damage. 

Despite being tossed around, the crate had been well packed and the frame didn't seem to be damaged. The question was whether Memor's more delicate components, especially his processor, were of sufficient quality to survive stasis for so long. It was unheard of for fully sparked mecha to survive such a time, but Mirage's very presence here and now said that such beliefs were incorrect.

He plugged into the mechanimal's medical port and began running a quick scan. Completely out of energon and energy, but having been in stasis already and not having a spark to support it was possible that wasn't fatal. He quickly injected a couple meals worth of energon into Memor's tank, then plugged in a second cable so the small systems could draw their initial power from him until it could process the energon into energy.

Slowly, the frame began to work through the energon and system after system came online without error until finally, tiny optics powered on and it lifted its head, looked at Mirage, and yipped. 

It was uncomfortable and stiff and didn't know why, but alive and, as far as Mirage could tell, free of any damage other than the stiffness that was to be expected in any mechanical creature after staying still for so long.

Mirage pulsed soothing comfort over the hardline and his field, along with the order to remain connected until it had processed enough energon.

He was still content to pet his stiff companion when the door opened. Memor growled on nervous instinct, and then quieted when it recognized the form and fields of the twins, lifting its head with a fond trill. 

"Well hey," Sideswipe said, offering his hand for Memor to nuzzle against. 

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and ignored the turbofox, going right for Mirage in a deep, heated kiss. "We have something close to five joors," he rumbled. "I'm not in a time wasting mood."

"Mm, neither am I, though I do need to leave Memor connected for another half breem," Mirage purred back. "Perhaps you can enjoy each other while I watch and warm up?"

Sideswipe grinned at him before looking to his brother and gesturing with his helm for him to get on berth, crawling on immediately after him and pressing their mouths together in a clashing kiss that made Sunstreaker moan.

"I'd love to watch Sideswipe riding," Mirage purred from where he was sitting on the floor, watching them with rapt attention.

The twins looked at him in some surprise, then back at each other as they pictured that--and then engines revved. Something new, something they'd never done with each other, and something that sounded incredibly enjoyable. 

"So like..." Sideswipe said, and then grinned when his twin's spike jutted out, rubbing against his pelvis. 

"Think you're supposed to sit on it," Sunstreaker rumbled playfully, hands on Sideswipe's hips.

Sideswipe batted playfully back at his twin, but unlocked is valve cover and leaned forward for another heated, clashing kiss as he warmed up enough to enjoy the ride.

Sunstreaker pushed with his hips, eager, couldn't bring himself to care about how stiff all his interfacing equipment felt when his twin was _right there_ and so close to ready for him, when all he wanted to do was sink in and let go. Knowing that Mirage was watching just made it better, made him more excited, wanted to feel the noble's slickness as much as his brother's and his engine gave a growling command to _hurry_.

"So demanding," Sideswipe grinned as his valve cover slid open. He was just as eager as his brother, just as willing to push himself to feel good. Still, he kept the mech who'd suggested this in mind and rubbed his valve against his brother's spike to make a show.

"You," Mirage said, a smirk in his voice, "Are being absolutely deliciously evil." 

"Agreed," Sunstreaker growled again, and jerked his frame up, grinding spike against platelets, sending sparks through both of them.

"Anything to please," Sideswipe moaned before shifting to make the next grinding movement press that spike he loved deep inside him with a shuddering moan. It ached, the stretch and with the smallest amount of lubrication he could manage with, but oh, it felt so very good to be with his twin again.

Sunstreaker groaned, head falling back, and they both took a moment to just _feel_ each other, revel in the simplicity and bliss of being joined. After a few moments, they rocked, slowly and carefully, getting a feel for the new arrangement and working their equipment back in without hurting each other. They might not have been aware of the time passing, but their frames had certainly noticed. 

"...Sides?" Sunstreaker said after a few moments, and his optics were bright as he lifted his head to look at his twin.

The red twin looked down in surprise. "You're live ... and talking."

Mirage straightened, focused intensely on them, and Sunstreaker nodded, looking a little unsure of himself as he rolled his hips up experimentally.

"I ... don't feel like..." He trailed off, staring at his brother, and then in a flurry of movement pushed himself up and grabbed Sideswipe, yanking him down into a desperate kiss as he started to rock in earnest, and his chest split down the middle.

"So good," Sideswipe moaned, his chest plates parting in unison with his brother's. "Feels so good."

"C'mere," Sunstreaker managed against Sideswipe's mouth, barely able to focus on the kiss as his hands roamed his brother's frame, _feeling_ him while spiking him in a way that he hadn't experienced since before the arenas, fully aware and completely himself. 

Crystals spiraled open as soon as plating was tucked safely out of the way, and the straining halves rushed to each other with blinding speed and light. As hard as it was for a unified, whole spark to exist for so long in stasis, the difficulty split sparks, be they bonded or twins, had in surviving the isolation was far worse. The relief that hit the pair when they were finally whole once more was enough to make them dizzy, and they sank down together, stilling, their frames almost entirely forgotten as their spark pulsed brightly.

Mirage disconnected from Memor, pet the turbofox once and quietly instructed it to wait on the floor before he crawled carefully onto the berth, curling up next to them and watching the light between their frames flicker and spin and dance. "...Can you hear me?" he asked quietly.

There was a tiny flicker across the merged field touching his, but it was recognition. He purred, content with that, and kept his field warm and flush with theirs, enjoying the merge, recording everything for the orn when he would take part. 

It came to a sudden end with a brilliant flare of heated ecstasy and the twins roared in unison, Sunstreaker's hips bucking up as his spike overloaded into his brother, who ground down into the thrust. 

Optics dark and frames still, the pair gradually recovered, their engines purring happily and feeling better than they had since waking up.

"Watching you merge is the most amazing thing," Mirage murmured, still in awe each time they permitted him to witness this sacred act of unity.

"Feels good too," Sunstreaker mumbled, then turned to look at their lover as their chests finished closing, optics piercing. "Ride me," he said, a low, growling, rumbling command.

Mirage's engine gave an involuntary rev as Sideswipe laughed and rose to give him space. With a hungry kiss, Mirage stretched along Sunstreaker's frame, his valve bared and slick, eager to be stretched and filled.

"I stayed _me_ ," Sunstreaker said, and his wonder in that fact could not be hidden as he rubbed up against the noble, engines racing and eager. He lifted his knees against Mirage's back, giving him something to lean on, and held onto his hips, delightfully slender and so unlike his own.

It took a moment for Mirage to grasp what was meant, but when he did his field rippled outward in delight and pride in his yellow lover. "How wonderful," he purred and shifted, lifting himself up in a graceful display to kneel over Sunstreaker's spike, his frame angled back to offer both of them the best view of the yellow and black length sliding inside him.

Sunstreaker moaned and his armor rippled with _anticipation_ of being inside Mirage and staying aware the entire time. Optics fixed on the view that Mirage was offering, his upward push was less frantic now that he was one overload down. He rocked carefully, savoring the entire thing. " _Raj_ ," he gasped, looking up into yellow optics once Mirage had settled fully down onto his lap, legs pushed apart, thighs quivering over Sunstreaker's hips. 

"Yes," Mirage moaned, trembling in reply to the pleasure and the utter gift that was Sunstreaker's awareness. "Feels so good." He focused his gaze down, taking in the rapture and amazement in the faceplates of his lover. "Do you want control, or for me to _ride_ you?"

"I want control," Sunstreaker rumbled, even though Sideswipe made a whining, choking sound of _want_ at the other option. "I want to _feel_ being in control." He gripped Mirage's waist and shoved up, lifting the noble into the air.

"It is yours." Mirage said, promised, expressing his joy and pleasure in his field, his frame, in the wanton display he made of himself for the mecha watching him with such desire. "You feel so good, stretching me."

" _Yes_ ," Sunstreaker growled, fixed on the way Mirage was arching his back, bracing against his legs, squirming his hips into each thrust from below. Sunstreaker held him tightly in place and pounded up relentlessly, savoring every moment, every push, every sound from Mirage and the long forgotten sensations of being _aware_ of the mecha he was spiking.

The crackle of energy across Mirage's systems built with each thrust, drawing out moans and half-aware glyphs of praise and pleasure until he reached back to grab hold of Sunstreaker's legs and _screamed_ his overload to the sky.

Sunstreaker shook beneath him, bucking, seeking that same edge and lost in the vision of the writhing noble before him until the charge _hit_ and his vision whited out with static and he roared, pounding up hard enough that even Sideswipe, lost in the bliss over the bond, felt his valve twinge just from watching.

When Sunstreaker finally sank down, Mirage was still on his lap, sprawled backward against his raised legs and looking down with utter bliss radiating from him.

"You are amazing," the noble purred, his valve cycling and twitching as he reluctantly leaned forward to kiss his lover, drawing himself off the hard spike in the process. "Would you enjoy watching me play with your brother while you recover?"

Sunstreaker nodded mutely, dazed, and they both looked towards Sideswipe, who was watching with one hand on his spike and his valve still dripping. He grinned at Mirage and patted the inside of his thigh. "'Play,' is it?"

"Play," Mirage purred as he crawled over to kiss him soundly. "I want to make sure the toys survived, then all three of us together."

Sideswipe hummed deeply and pulled Mirage tight into another kiss before breaking away and leaning back. "Go on then," he purred, very clearly approving of the idea. "Find one I'll like."

In a flash Mirage was arm-deep in a crate, fishing around to find the box he wanted from the shifted contents. When he turned he had a thick, ridged toy that both twins knew vibrated and gave little shocks at random. "Lay back, Sideswipe. No touching me or yourself."

Sideswipe raised an optic ridge at him. "Bossy," he teased, but complied, letting his legs fall casually apart. Sunstreaker chuckled and rolled up onto one elbow to better watch, his own hand now resting on his partially-retracted spike, stroking lightly.

"It will be rewarded," Mirage promised, one they all knew he was _very_ skilled at delivering, and knelt on the berth between Sideswipe's legs. His free hand stroked along the valve assembly, fingers spread and teasing as much as checking. Some things, like making sure he wasn't about to hurt one of them, were beyond Mirage's ability to stop.

Thankfully, the twins had grown accepting of that fact and had learned to treat it as the pleasurable warm-up that it was meant to be, rather than the frustrating delay they had once hated so much. Sideswipe hummed as nimble fingertips stroked and teased at the platelets on either side while fingers slipped into him. He was slick, from his own lubricant and Sunstreaker's transfluid, the lining stretched easily as the fingers scissored inside him, broken in from the heat and friction of his brother's spike.

Satisfied, Mirage withdrew his fingers and slid the toy in with a series of small thrusts that enflamed his desire to watch. The toy was turned off, so it was only the physical stretch for now, but Sideswipe still moaned and rocked against it like it was the most exquisite thing he'd ever had. Both twins were incredibly rapid learners, and picking up how to put on this new kind of show had taken them almost no time at all.

Fingers dug into the padding, hips lifted from the berth, thighs pulled wide open before the noble and the watching twin. He felt the heat pouring off them in reward, the arousal across the bond and bright in Mirage's field as he was stretched and filled by a lover that wanted nothing but his pleasure.

~You are good at that,~ Sunstreaker rumbled across the bond, his attention locked on the toy sliding in and out of his brother's frame. He almost missed it when Mirage moved to lounge along Sideswipe's side until the noble leaned in to kiss along the hard spike without disrupting the view of the moving toy.

Sideswipe _had_ missed it, entirely, as focused as he was on the show, and even more on the toy that his lover was controlling. He gave a sharp yelp and whine, torn between pushing against Mirage's lips and driving onto the toy. "Primus, 'Raj," he gasped, when the lips continued to brush over the heated metal, doing nothing to ease the ache. " _Tease_."

The noble purred, adding vibration to his light kisses before he swallowed Sideswipe's aching spike in a single motion. His lips and glossa lavished the base and housing while his intake contracted around the rest in a rolling rhythm perfected in Mirage's youth. A deep, rich groan was his reward as Sideswipe sank into the movements, the heat of Mirage's mouth, the caressing of his glossa, the tightness of his intake. All of it helped to soothe the hard length while making the mech gasp with heightening arousal.

Mirage flicked the toy on, sending a spark into the sensors of the valve as his hum deepened, seeking to draw Sideswipe to the edge and topple him over. It didn't take long, not when he was working a spike that hadn't been touched in millennia and _felt_ it, and Sideswipe drew in a deep, gasping intake, and then _screamed_ as his hips jerked up in a sudden counter-rhythm, shuddering and bucking between mouth and toy as the overload washed over him, crackling and almost painful as he spilled his transfluid into Mirage's intake. Sunstreaker moaned from the strength of it and his spike jutted back out, fully erect and rubbing almost mindlessly against Mirage.

Mirage turned the toy to its lowest setting and continued to work both spike and valve until the red warrior sank to the berth, sedate and sated. With a quiet purr of satisfaction, Mirage drew his helm away and scooted up to kiss his lover. "Think you have one more round in you?"

"Mm, just try me," Sideswipe purred, then grinned wickedly at his twin. "It's Sunny I'm worried about." 

"I can always go one more than you," Sunstreaker smirked back. "Bring it on."

Mirage purred between them. "Does it appeal for me to ride Sunstreaker again, while you fill his valve and stroke my spike?"

The brothers groaned in approval together before Sideswipe pushed himself up and caught Mirage by the waist, forcefully hefting him back over to Sunstreaker. "You're a wicked little thing, you know that?" he rumbled against the noble's neck, before x-venting hotly and realizing his valve was still clamped around the toy and that it was magnetically locked to his valve rim. " _So_ wicked." 

"I have put a great deal of thought into ways to enjoy both of you at the same time," Mirage moaned shamelessly as he sank down around Sunstreaker's spike.

"Good mech," Sideswipe praised, voice low and even, and he could hardly believe how _hot_ this was making him as he moved in behind Mirage and between his brother's legs. Sunstreaker spread them apart for him, and he knew without looking that the valve there was open and dripping. He didn't need to look to know exactly how to angle his hips, and watched Mirage's careful pull up to time his push with their lover taking the spike in again. 

He drove forward, matching the speed, and Sunstreaker shuddered at the dual sensations. Sideswipe pulsed what he was feeling over the bond, and his hand came around front to Mirage's pelvis and rubbed gently over the spike cover. Even in this, even with Mirage impaled, spread out, shameless, he was careful. With this, he was _always_ careful. 

He care was rewarded by a flush of arousal and the click of the cover unlocking and sliding open. His fingers lightly circled the spike's housing, enjoying the heat already there and the intensity of his brother's stare. All their patience in courting Mirage, and in careful patience with him after his capture, rewarded them with this.

~So _hot_ ,~ Sunstreaker moaned, trembling in the effort to keep his thrusts light to match the pace Mirage set for them all.

~Tight valve, gorgeous spike, a waist you can really grab and hold,~ Sideswipe purred, swirling his thumb around the center, coaxing their lover to extend. ~You know this toy is keeping everything trapped in,~ he continued, looking over Mirage's shoulder into his twin's optics. ~Keeping your spill in me, coating me completely.~

Sunstreaker shivered at the image, moaning even more deeply when Mirage began to cycle and ripple his valve lining. 

With a matching moan Mirage's spike began to slide out, making Sideswipe work for it, but only a little. "So good. You both feel so good."

"Just for you," Sideswipe murmured, focused on teasing with small, light strokes over the exposed surface as it continued to extend, rewarding him with more contact and the flush of pleasure it brought. "Mmm, yes, that's it, 'Raj ... Aah, Sunny..."

Shameless in his play for them, Mirage leaned back against Sideswipe and brought his knees forward to give them both better views of what they were doing. He kept his rise and fall even, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as he could. It simply felt amazing to know that all three were being stimulated both ways at the same time and he couldn't be happier with how easily they had taken to the new position and how well it was working.

"Looks good enough to frag," Sideswipe purred against his audial as his spike continued to extend, but Mirage could hear the gasping tenseness beneath the tone. Sunstreaker was too caught up between them to be very coherent, moaning the way he was and rocking into both of them. Sideswipe cupped his palm beneath the spike, rubbing gently, enjoying the feel and weight in his hand as it finally pressurized fully.

With both twins fighting to keep going, Mirage surrendered himself to the building charge and began to play his hands over his frame to draw himself to overload with them. With a six-way overload between them going off at once, he had every intention of collapsing between them and recharging until someone demanded they get up.

As soon as they sensed his surrendering to them, the twins' engines growled in unison and they began to _move_ , breaking away from the slow pace, each one of them rocking, pounding, being filled, _everything_. Even Sideswipe's hand tightened, his strokes sped up, and he gave a harsh vent against Mirage. "S--Sunny," he moaned, as his wrist jerked up and down. 

"Sides," Sunstreaker moaned, and then when they couldn't stand it any longer, topping over the edge, in unison with his twin, " _Mirage!_ "

Mirage held out just a moment longer, just long enough to fully drink in their intense pleasure and let them come down enough to register the bliss they brought him. With a high keen he surrendered to his frame, to the energy coming into him from all sides and allowed the overload to sweep through. Energy surged into his valve lining, jumping across the highly conductive lubricant into Sunstreaker spike while his own ejected burst after burst onto Sunstreaker's abdomen as the charge grounded into Sideswipe's hand.

When it was done, Mirage sank back, spent and sated and wanting nothing more than to recharge between his mates.

Sideswipe caught and held him easily, rubbing affectionately against him, his armor as loose as his panting twin's. He carefully pulled Mirage up and off before maneuvering them both up next to Sunstreaker, who turned and nuzzled, rumbling contentedly. 

Sideswipe reached across Mirage with a cloth, quickly and efficiently cleaning the spilled transfluid on Sunstreaker's frame, then sank down, strutless and exhausted, in the best way. 

"Could still go one more," Sunstreaker mumbled, curling against Mirage.

"Won't stop you," Mirage murmured back, meaning it completely. His mates did not need him to be coherent if they wished his frame, at least not for him.

"Wouldn't wanna show Sides up, he's sensitive like that," the yellow frontliner rumbled, earning himself a half-strength smack across a helm fin from his twin. Sunstreaker snickered. "No this is nice."

"Is," Sideswipe agreed, as they both began to power down into recharge, utterly sated and content to have their recharging mate between them.

* * *

Mirage looked up at the familiar sound of Skyfire's engines roaring overhead, watching the shuttle dodge enemy fire as he came in for a landing near the Autobots, his bay doors opening before he'd even touched down, bright red and yellow streaks shooting out of it and heading towards the front of the battle. 

That was all the attention Mirage could afford to pay before he went back to trying to sabotage Megatron's latest weapon of mass destruction, and more than once, he found himself wishing for Jazz's presence alongside him. But Jazz and Prowl were _Away_. Everyone knew what for. No one talked about it. No one except the twins, who had gone to visit. 

It was a family thing. A vengeance thing. A pre-war score to settle. It was as against the Autobot way as anything was, and what choice was there but to accept it? To try to deny them their vengeance would have cost the Autobots a minimum of their SIC, TIC, the two best frontliners and their SpecOps SIC. It may well have cost them their only dedicated sniper and ranking diversionary tactician as well from ties of kinship. Mirage knew that a few other mecha would follow Jazz and Prowl if they left, though he'd never spoken of it, not even to Jazz or the twins. At this stage in the war, the pair was capable of gathering a viable third faction from defectors on both sides, and it was unlikely that Optimus Prime didn't recognize it.

Mirage pushed all that out of his processor as he finished clipping and soldering wires and slipped away.

From his shelter point, halfway between the two factions, he could see Sideswipe grappling with Skywarp in the sky and couldn't help his smile. As dangerous as it was, flying always brought such _light_ to his lover's field that he couldn't help but be happy to see him up there. Sunstreaker was battling with the remaining members of Vortex's gestalt who, even if unable to combine, were not foes to be taken lightly. 

A break came in the firing and Mirage took his chance, sprinting back towards the relative safety of the Autobots and hoping the battle would end soon. Even if it hadn't been that long, by their standards, the Earth days made everything seem so much longer than it once had, and he missed them.

A massive explosion behind him signaled the destruction of Megatron's latest weapon, and true to form a retreat was called within a breem. Like every battle since Jazz and Prowl had been gone, this one had more casualties than if even one of them had been present. The decaorn and a half had been brutal with Megatron doing his best to take advantage of the weakness. It was so hard to comprehend it was _only_ forty-three orns, when five hundred and sixty local solar cycles had passed since Vortex's capture and subsequent abduction.

Everything moved so very fast on this world and Mirage despised it all the more for it. It wouldn't have been as bad if Optimus Prime hadn't insisted on adjusting their lives to the local cycle. Earth was still horrible, but it might have been at least tolerable.

His thoughts were jarred back to reality once more when he teeked his lovers coming close. He disengaged his disruptor, appearing right in front of them, so close that Sideswipe actually startled a little before two sets of arms grabbed him in a hug. Mirage ran his hands over them, greeting as well as feeling for injury and getting a close teek of their emotional state. The battle high, rage, and peace and joy at having their lover close. Deeper in was disgust, disturbed and that twisted kind of peace that was their version of _thinking_.

"We missed you," Sideswipe kissed Mirage soundly.

"Missed you too," Mirage said, and turned, looking around for Optimus, who was watching the trio from not too far away. He nodded once and Mirage tilted his head in gratitude before looking at the twins. "Wash, and berth?" he suggested, anxious to talk to them. They'd seemed conflicted before leaving, and whatever had happened didn't seem to have resolved that much.

"Yeah, sounds good," Sunstreaker nodded. "Get our finish in order."

"And talk," Sideswipe added quietly.

All three allowed the subject to drop as they reached the washracks and went to work cleaning up the gore of battle and the dust of this world from their frames. It was breems before they left, long after the rest of the crew had come and gone, but time found them in their berth again after greeting the trilling yip of Memor with pets and assurances that all was well.

"So ... you saw him?" Mirage asked quietly as they all settled in together. "Your spark sire." 

"Yeah," Sunstreaker growled. "Saw him. Learned a few things. Thrashed him."

"Saw Prowl go Ops-crazy," Sideswipe shivered. "It is _so_ wrong to see him grin like that."

Mirage grew very still. He could imagine that, he could--Prowl was _Jazz's_ mate, after all, and Jazz wouldn't waste his time with someone who couldn't keep up with him in every capacity--but it was almost as disturbing to him as he imagined it had been to the twins. "Are you ... okay, with knowing who that was?" he asked. 

"We've survived a lot worse," Sunstreaker grumbled. "He can't hurt us with it. No one can."

"Yeah. Mecha hate and fear us for who we _are_ , not where we came from," Sideswipe agreed. "Besides, the war's effectively over."

Mirage relaxed a little. So no crisis over heritage to deal with. He turned a little to look over his shoulder at Sunstreaker, then drew the yellow mech into a kiss. "You said you learned some things, are they things you can tell me?"

"Sure. Nothing that's a secret, I don't think."

"Mostly ... I guess we realized that they _do_ understand the monster inside," Sideswipe said quietly, holding Mirage close. "We knew, accepted, a long time ago that they both grasped what it was to live with a bad glitch."

"But what we became in the pits and areas ... we're glitched, yeah, but we'll never be _people_ again," Sunstreaker struggled to explain.

"We never were. They won't ever be again. They just saw enough as people to know how to fake it. We were barely in our youngling frames the last time we saw anything resembling civilization. It's alien, what Smokescreen showed us, what you've shown us, what Prime's tried to show us. I kinda knew Prowl got it, the way he protected us. But we never grasped just how thin that civilized mask is for Prowl. Or even Jazz."

"Knew he was crazy. Didn't know just how much they're like us, inside," Sunstreaker stumbled with the words.

"You might have seen Jazz like that, but we never had," Sideswipe added.

"I've seen it," Mirage said quietly. Seen it and heard stories of worse. He quickly focused back on the twins. It was a miracle, really, that they were as high-functioning as they were, and he knew what was really beneath the civilized exterior if pushed even a little. Saw how quickly and efficiently they killed. How much joy they took in _victory_ \--and not just winning a fight, but _destroying_ their opponents and making them cower before the end. He didn't like to think about it, but he knew it. 

They were monsters. 

But they were _his_ monsters. 

He curled between them. "What do you want to do, when there's peace?" 

Sunstreaker actually cowered back, and Sideswipe's field went cold. They both knew the answer. They'd always known the answer. To say it to Mirage, though? Neither one was quite that brave.

Mirage's field shrank and pulled in tight against his armor as he curled further in on himself, trying to hide the shame that he'd even thought to ask them that question, made them think about it. "I apologize, I should not have asked," he said stiffly. 

"No," Sideswipe found his voice, shaky as it was. "No, you have a right to know. Right to ask."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker managed to add.

They pressed close to him, finding the strength in each other to face their lover with the longest-standing truth of their existence.

"There's no peace for us, 'Raj," Sideswipe whispered. "We don't have a place in peace."

Mirage nodded stiffly, and suddenly the end of the war was not something to be looked forward to. He'd seen the way Jazz stared at nothing for joors on end sometimes and knew what he was longing for. Prowl would follow. And now the twins. 

His entire family. 

"Even--even with me?" he managed, and there was a sudden, growing anger that they would even _think_ that he was going to accept something like that. "What would you do?" he asked coldly.

"We find another fight," Sunstreaker looked away. "There's nothing _there_ but fighting."

"From the youngling pits to arenas to Autobot grunts to Autobot elite frontliners. Fight, repair, refuel, 'face," Sideswipe summed up their entire existence. "It's all we have." There was a quiet pause. "We're sorry. We don't know anything else."

"Somebody's always going to want the violence we dish out," Sunstreaker muttered, and he was angry for the truth of it.

"And how far?" Mirage demanded. "Off world?" He knew he was out of line and being unfair and he couldn't bring himself to care in that moment. "Did you forget the promise you made when you asked to court me? What about our creations? What about _me?_ What if you _die?_ "

"Raj..." Sunstreaker whined, hurt by it.

"No, he's right," Sideswipe trembled. "He's right. We promised."

"And do _what?_ " Sunstreaker lifted himself up to stare at his brother.

"Distill, paint, fight in whatever legal matches get organized," Sideswipe said uneasily. "It's not a _fight_...." ~It's not living, but when have we had anything that mattered? Either we adapt and he's happy, or we don't and eventually he'll get rid of us. Is the slaughter worth more than he is?~

Sunstreaker was silent for a painfully long time, then sank down in defeat. ~No. He's the balance, the sane one. He puts up with our glitched afts. Guess we'll have to learn how to ... whatever his world is.~

Mirage waited, scowling, for one of them to break the silence and speak to him. He knew the way they teeked when they were talking over their bond and he was willing to be patient while they discussed it. But only for so long. "Well?" he finally asked, his voice as sharp as he could make it to cover the fear that he wasn't going to be alluring enough for them to settle down.

"We'll figure out a way to manage as civilians," Sideswipe said quietly. "You put up with us, we'll keep our promises to you."

Despite the words, their distress couldn't be hidden from their fields, not against one who knew how to teek as well as Mirage did. They were terrified, but they were being honest too.

They would _try_.

"Good," Mirage said shortly, and resettled his armor in an anxious, cascading pattern. "Because I will not be having you run off to get yourselves killed, first creations or not." He huffed, unsettled and embarrassed and relieved--but guilty for it. An unpleasant mixture. "I am certain there will be organized matches. Many survivors are warriors." 

"About all that did survive," Sunstreaker huffed. "Warriors and Ops like you."

"Scientists too," Sideswipe couldn't help but correct his brother in an effort to feel like normal banter was coming back. "Wheeljack, Perceptor, Skyfire."

"Jack is not a scientist, he's a solo demolitions unit. Skyfire _didn't_ survive," Sunstreaker countered.

"Ratchet," Mirage joined in, and then giggled at the stares he got. 

" _Ratchet_ could take out an entire unit on his own," Sunstreaker said. 

"Prime just doesn't want to get shown up," Sideswipe added, grinning.

"How about Seaspray?" Mirage suggested. "Cosmos? Powerglide?"

"What _is_ Seaspray, anyway?" Sideswipe asked with a snicker.

"Cosmos is comms. Powerglide's survived by virtue of being too beneath Seekers to go after," Sunstreaker smirked.

"Not like _my_ fighters," Mirage purred proudly, and leaned in to take a grinning kiss from Sideswipe. 

"Mmm, no," the red warrior rumbled, relieved and willing to take this to more pleasurable places. "We _make_ them pay attention."

"We're just that good," Sunstreaker rumbled, eager to move on.

"Good at other things, too," Mirage said, and hooked one of his legs up and back around Sunstreaker while running his hands down Sideswipe's chest. "So, _so_ good at quite a few other things." 

"Never want to make a living at _those_ things," Sideswipe rumbled into a heated kiss as his hands began to eagerly explore his lover's frame.

"Rather save it for you," Sunstreaker added as he nibbled Mirage's neck and began stroking the helm vents.

"Good," Mirage said, and couldn't hide the pleased ripple that went through him at that. By rights, they could have anyone they wanted and he wouldn't have a say in it, and he was not supposed to care who they decided to interface with. 

But hearing that they wanted him, and _only_ him, always made him preen. 

He pushed his aft back against Sunstreaker's pelvis, rubbing, and tilted his head to let Sideswipe get further down his collar. "Hope you're up to pounding some dents into me," he purred. 

"Always," Sunstreaker's engine roared in anticipation, his spike pressurizing eagerly between them. "Anywhere, anyway you want it."

"Want to let Sunny drive us?" Sideswipe suggested. "Or maybe we'll skewer you between us."

"Let him drive me into you," Mirage purred. "Frag you through me, drive us until we drop." He lifted his head to catch Sideswipe's mouth in a sharp nip. "Enough time for the rest later."

"Agreed," they both moaned deeply as Sideswipe rolled to his back, spread his legs and offered his valve eagerly to the noble he loved almost as much as his brother. 

* * *

When Jazz and Prowl returned to the Autobots with their spectacular display, Mirage was one of the very few who wasn't surprised by the evidence of extreme and brutal torture on the frame they threw to the ground like so much waste. Seeing their combined power and confidence, the way the twins had come to their creators' aid without any hesitation ... that was the part that still had Mirage amazed. The rest of the Ark was chattering about a missing spike, _he_ was sitting invisible on the roof, staring at the skies and imagining the devastation the pair was capable of unleashing. 

Prowl's main downfall had always been his strict adherence to rules, guidelines, logic. Jazz's had been that he was too wild, _felt_ too much and sometimes made things worse by reacting before thinking. To balance each other... 

Mirage shivered. He was glad to not be a 'Con.

"Am I intruding?" a familiar voice asked quietly with the harmonics of a near-equal. Jazz the noble second creation had come looking for his missing friend.

"Not at all. How on Cybertron did you know I was here?" Mirage asked as he shimmered back into visibility, twisting at the waist to look at the mech that had gotten ten paces away from him without his ever realizing. He patted the roof next to him and Jazz sat down.

"Your disruptor doesn't hide you from Teletraan's tracking here on the Ark unless you turn you comms off," Jazz chuckled. "That got me close. The rest is my secret."

Mirage stuck his glossa out at him for a moment before he smiled in welcome. "A matter of decaorns should not have felt so long," he remarked. "It felt like you were away much longer than that. So," he grinned, reclining back onto his elbows and looking up at Jazz. "Tell all. In detail. What does it feel like?"

Jazz's gaze was immediately lost in a blissful stare. "It's the most amazing thing. I can _feel_ him," he caressed his armor over his spark. "Every moment, every state. I know when he's recharging, stressed, playful, relaxed ... and I know he knows it of me. I can always, always _feel_ what he feels for me. And the overload ... oh Primus, that is like nothing else. It's _amazing_."

Mirage grinned and listened as Jazz continued on, sounding like the lovestruck second creation that he was, only one that was many, many centuries younger. When it finally waned, Mirage reached over to intertwine their fingers. "How are _you?_ " he asked, more serious.

"I have never been better," Jazz responded, full of honesty and joy. "Everything that used to hurt now feels wonderful."

Relief for that flooded through Mirage's field. In Jazz he could teek energy where there had formerly been exhaustion. He felt steadier, _saner_. 

And some part of Mirage wondered if the twins would take his sanity, and what he would get from them. "I ... had a talk with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe," he said, carefully shifting his subharmonics.

"About finally merging?" Jazz perked up, eager in a way he couldn't have been before bonding with Prowl. "Oh, it is so worth the effort, Raj. It's going to be scary at first, being so vulnerable and open to them, and seeing them the same way, but it's worth all that a thousand times over."

"Ah," Mirage said, and glanced away. "No, not exactly. Well, not at all. I asked them what they wanted to do when the war is over, they said they wanted to follow war wherever it went, that they wouldn't stand peacetime. I may have yelled at them a bit," he admitted. "Until they agreed to stick to organized fighting. I'm trying to figure out if it's fair for me to demand that of them. I know it's _wrong_ for me to demand anything of them, but I don't know if it's fair."

"Oh, Raj," Jazz turned his hand over to hold Mirage's tightly. "Sometimes they need to have demands made of them. They're simple in a way we'll never be. As smart as they are, they don't _think_ very often." He reached over to bring Mirage's gaze to meet his own. "You did the right thing. Never take fighting away from them and they'll find their place in the new order. They're just afraid, like so many dedicated warriors and war-builds will be. They don't know anything but fighting for their life. They don't think they're good for anything else. They don't realize how many skills they have that will make them valuable after the war, and they're terrified of being useless."

Mirage turned that over in his processors a few times, letting it help settle some of the unease he'd still been feeling, then nodded slowly. "I was just so terrified of losing them. Maybe if we merged they'd ... understand what I see for them better." He looked down and rubbed at his chest, then back at Jazz. "So maybe I _should_ have that conversation."

"Only when you're ready," Jazz said gently and firmly. "It doesn't matter how wonderful I say it is or how much it's helped me. This is your spark, your to-be-Intendeds. You know both better than I ever will, and all three of you have a lot of issues that you can't hide from that kind of merge. Not that Prowl and I don't, but he witnessed everything and I witnessed most of his. We had a lot of culture in common, too. Even if we were from different strata, he understood mine better than I ever will. You don't have that common ground with the twins. You'll need to build the trust, make sure you're ready for it. Maybe start with a pleasure merge." He paused and watched Mirage think. "I wouldn't try it before you can all freely hardline and drop at least most of your firewalls. A spark merge for sharing and joining, what you've witnessed them do, is an order of magnitude greater than an open hardline."

"How very radically progressive of you," Mirage teased. How very different this world they lived in was different from theirs.

"No more than you for falling in love with a couple street thugs," Jazz teased back.

"Oh no, don't you even," Mirage laughed. "Mine are noble first creations by sparkline, yours are a seneschal and a commoner."

"But you didn't know that when you fell for them," Jazz grinned back. "At least my commoner had manners when I met him, and a respectable function."

"Details," Mirage said airily, waving a hand, then matched Jazz's grin. "What can I say, I felt like going wild and being improper by flirting with commoners. Really letting loose. It just sort of ... backfired on me."

"Worked out well in the end though, didn't it?" Jazz purred as he leaned over. "They're good to you, right?"

"Very good," Mirage sighed happily, relaxing against him. "Believe me I'd tell you if they weren't being good to me. I'm pretty sure you'd know without me telling you."

"Well, yes, but it's nice to hear it," Jazz smiled softly and relaxed as well. "You are good at hiding things when you want to, and so are they, in their own way. It's good to hear that you're happy. Even better that you've learned how to control them. They need a strong second creation as a mate."

"They need someone who holds them to a higher standard than they hold for themselves," Mirage said, and then chuckled. "As there is a high frequency of me being called 'bossy,' I think I'm doing a good job." He glanced over and saw Jazz's distant, dreamy look. "Prowl being adorable somewhere?"

"Just ... _happy_ ," Jazz's armor gave a tiny shiver of pleasure. "I think he's in his office trying to catch up on a metacycle of reports. I never grasped just how much he loves administration. I should have, knowing what he was, but I never got over my own hatred of reports and filing to see how much he thrives on it. And yes, you are very much right about your pair. As long as they don't say it in hatred."

"Never," Mirage promised, and kissed Jazz on the cheek before standing. "I'll leave you two alone," he teased fondly. "I suddenly want to be between my twins."

"Have fun," Jazz waved him off, watching for only a moment before looking up at the stars and enjoying the _peace-pleasure_ humming across the bond.

Mirage smiled in his direction before climbing down to the ground and pinging his lovers, who responded immediately and happily, and sounded a little overcharged. 

::'Rajy baby,:: Sideswipe purred.

::Made a fool of yourselves yet?:: Mirage asked in his most haughty, disapproving tone with the sub-harmonics of teasing.

::Why would you, um, say something like that!:: Sideswipe protested. ::We would _never_ \--hang on, um, just need to...:: There was a long pause. 

::Picture of dignity,:: Sunstreaker rumbled. 

::That's us!:: Sideswipe agreed cheerfully. ::We would _never_ ... er ... oh hey, that's a wall.::

::Primus below, give me patience. Where are you? I'd like to enjoy our berth.:: Mirage tempted them with one of the few things he knew would drag them away from a good party without complaint.

::Mmm ... I think we're somewhere,:: Sideswipe said, very pleased with himself for that deduction.

::At the party,:: Sunstreaker managed something slightly more useful before Mirage resorted to Teletraan I.

::I'll be there in a klik,:: Mirage sighed internally. Talking and more delicate interfacing would have to wait for a couple orns until both the overcharge and resulting hangover passed.

Once he got to the rec room he was greeted with a round of cheers and lifted cubes. Bumblebee all but toppled over him, the twins fast on his heels, and they draped themselves around him as the scout bounced excitedly.

"Gonna join us?" he asked, as Sunstreaker purred against him.

"Just stopping by to collect my twins," Mirage told his fellow spy, then focused on collecting Sideswipe and drawing the unsteady pair out of the room with him.

Sideswipe made a strange giggling sound. "Your twins," he said. 

"His twins," Sunstreaker rumbled, walking unsteadily. He nuzzled at the top of Mirage's helm. "You're shiny." 

"He's pretty," Sideswipe agreed. "Where are we going?"

"Our quarters for you to burn off the charge, recharge and survive the hangover," Mirage told them with more tolerance than he actually felt. "Then we need to talk."

"Oh," Sideswipe said. "Okay. _Ohh._ " He grinned as Mirage palmed at the door, helping Sunstreaker through first with the red twin following after unsteadily.

Sunstreaker all but tripped and fell into the berth, laying where he fell and rumbling. 

"'Raj," Sideswipe said, with a whine as he rubbed up against him. " _Charged._ "

"I know," Mirage softened as the door closed behind them. He turned to kiss his red lover, his field expressing his willingness to help burn off the charge. "Drive me into Sunstreaker?" he suggested with a low rumble.

"Uh huh," Sideswipe managed. "'S good." He put his hands on Mirage's hips and led him forward as they both climbed over Sunstreaker, who got himself completely onto the berth and pulled Mirage into a kiss. Covers slid back, frames ground together, and Sideswipe _pushed_ until the extra charge had vanished completely and they all dropped into a deep, needed recharge.

* * *

"Feeling normal yet?" Mirage's even voice broke the twin's light recharge.

Sideswipe groaned a little as they roused themselves to look blearily at him. 

"Don't feel like our cables were all just stripped, finally," Sunstreaker said. 

Sideswipe barked a laugh. "Primus. We were pretty 'charged." 

"Quite," Mirage didn't hide his annoyance even as he stepped to the berth and offered each low grade. "Drink, find your processors, then we can talk."

They both cringed away from his tone. "Talk?" Sunstreaker asked timidly between sips. 

"...Sorry," Sideswipe said. "Didn't mean to get _that_ 'charged but everyone kept passing us stuff." 

"From what I saw, you weren't the worst off," Mirage relented slightly. "Learning how to manage your drinking is a useful skill. You are not going to be passed a cube if you still have half of one in your hand."

"Yeah but," Sunstreaker said, before he was elbowed sharply in the side. He scowled at his twin, then looked back to Mirage. "That is a good idea," he recited dutifully. 

"It is," Sideswipe agreed. "We're sorry. We didn't realize you'd mind like that." 

"...You said talk?" Sunstreaker asked nervously. 

"Yes," Mirage drew on the strength talking with Jazz had given him. "I would like to work towards a spark merge with you."

"Oh," they said in unison, relaxing in one moment, and then tensed back up in the next. "What?" 

"Work towards?" 

"You're ready for that?" 

"You ... _want_ to?" And there was wonder in those words, the lingering amazement that someone like Mirage would want someone like them.

"I believe I am ready. I want to merge, to _bond_ with you very much," Mirage allowed the honesty of his words unfurl across his field to caress them. "Jazz suggested a way to go about it that is least likely to traumatize any of us."

Sunstreaker huffed but Sideswipe nodded eagerly and finished his energon, setting the empty cube aside and reaching out to put his hands on Mirage's hips and drawing him into his lap. "How is that?"

"To begin with hardline and gradually lower firewalls until we can be peripheral to each other with only a few," Mirage snuggled into the embrace, relieved that they wanted this too. "All three of us have memories and issues that are likely to hurt the others. If we can deal with them, come to terms with what has happened, when we merge that will not be the focus."

"Why start with hardline?" Sunstreaker scowled, but he was just as eager as his brother.

"Because with hardline, one can back out or put up firewalls to sequester memories quickly. There are no such options during a deeper merge," Mirage explained.

They nodded in understanding. They knew what that was like, the complete openness, being unable to hide anything even if they'd wanted to. They'd never _tried_ , though, there was nothing hidden. No secrets. 

But the idea of some of that being completely open to Mirage ... sure, the noble knew what had happened in their lives, but _seeing_ some of it, seeing them tear other younglings apart slowly and painfully because they'd get an extra drop for every klik longer the match lasted... 

"So, hardline, with one more firewall dropped," Sideswipe said. "We can do that."

"And focus on sharing something new before turning to pleasure," Mirage nodded and shifted to reach over and pull Sunstreaker into a kiss. "It doesn't need to be something bad, just something that hasn't been shared. If we can, share a memory or fantasy each with lower firewalls. Then pleasure. Perhaps this time we can try to share something pleasant?"

"I think we can think of something," Sunstreaker rumbled, pressed against his twin and their lover. 

"Just one firewall down though," Sideswipe said, and pulled the noble back for his own kiss. "We're not very good at controlling that kind of thing."

"You will learn. I will show you," Mirage smiled and nudged the pair to lie down so he could settle between them. Almost hesitatingly he withdrew his primary interface cable and stroked over the small panel that covered Sideswipe's.

It opened willingly under the touch and the tips touched with a light spark between them. Mirage leaned in for a deep kiss as he unspooled that cable and handed it to Sunstreaker while plugging into Sideswipe, and then accepted Sunstreaker's hardline into his own chest. 

A light charge passed around the connections as it initiated and settled. 

~So ... just the outermost,~ Sideswipe said, clasping his brother's hand while Mirage knelt between them, a hand over each spark.

~Yes. Let us begin with the same firewalls as we do when interfacing,~ Mirage suggested gently. ~If we do this slowly and understand the steps it is more likely to work.~

The twins nodded and pulled Mirage down so they could all cuddle closer together. From where he was lingering on the outside, Mirage could feel that their firewalls didn't exist to each other, and he brushed carefully against that edge. They brushed back against his, a shiver of charge coming with it.

~Shall I begin?~ Mirage offered gently.

~Something nice?~ Sideswipe asked hesitantly, curious about Mirage's youth but at the same time, wary of seeing something so different.

~Yes, a nice memory,~ Mirage smiled at them across the hardline. ~Also, not a memory involving Storm Front.~

The memory opened and was gently directed into the shared space. The twins knew at a glance at the tags, or at least the ones they understood, that it was a good memory just as Mirage had said. All the tags they didn't understand, either because of the dialect or simply glyphs they didn't know, made both a bit uneasy.

It started with a sense of youth, excitement and wonder, but also nervousness that he might make a mistake on this important orn. The grand hall of crystal, mirror-polished metal, imported stone and even organics unfolded in their minds. Even at a distance from his modern awareness, they could feel the warmth Mirage felt for this place and that it made him feel good despite the sadness of its loss.

There were other mecha milling about the room, most of them the hazy substitute of memories lost to time, but a select few were bright and vivid. Family, creators, his older brother. They were all gathered and waiting, and as the twins watched, the crowd moved easily back to create a space in the center, where two bright figures came together, palms raised and almost touching. 

They sang, a song infinitely more intrinsic and challenging than the one the twins had sung for Mirage, and the crystals in the room sparkled back at them as they danced. 

~What is it?~ Sunstreaker asked, mesmerized by the colors and movements.

~This is a courting request in all its glory,~ Mirage told them gently, pushing through the truth that he was deeply honored and delighted by what they had done.

~It's ... gorgeous,~ Sideswipe said, but all the glamour and riches in the surrounding room were making him uncomfortable. ~Is this a special occasion kind of room?~

~No, that one is much more spectacular,~ Mirage said wistfully. ~This was for the regular gatherings and socializing, in the center Tower of our cluster.~

~Oh,~ Sideswipe said, and got nudged by his twin, and encouraged to watch the dance instead. The red twin did, settling in until the partners bowed to each other and the one who Mirage had indicated as the second creation lifted his hand, allowing the other to brush a kiss over the knuckles. ~Does that mean yes?~

~Yes. It was accepted. Since they danced together it was a pair that had already agreed and this was a public announcement. It was rare for a dance, even an unannounced one, to be refused unless the creators or Lord stepped in to stop it,~ Mirage's tone was full of warmth at the memories of his home. ~They were refused on occasion, however. It was a great humiliation to a first creation to be refused.~

Smug satisfaction came from the twins. ~Like Tracks was,~ Sunstreaker said, while Sideswipe snickered. 

~Oh, to have seen the look on his face,~ the red twin lamented.

A new memory was queued up and offered with a snicker from Mirage.

They watched a klik or so of Tracks's grand, gesturing speech about the heritage he would bring to an arrangement with Mirage, how lucky the second creation was that he was available and willing to deign to court him. Halfway through a glyph, he was interrupted by a simple, succinct, "No." 

The first creation looked startled. "If you would let me finish--" 

"You are finished," Jazz said. "My answer is no. You may not court Mirage. Not now, or ever." 

Tracks's expression twisted and contorted into something chagrined, shocked, and deeply insulted. Before he could apparently think of a response, Jazz stood. "You may leave now," he said. Tracks looked affronted, lifted his chin, turned and stormed out.

"Thank you," Mirage looked up at his Lord/surrogate creator with relief in his spark and gratitude in his field.

"He is not worthy of you. More importantly, you did not want him," Jazz said in full Lord of the House mode. The twins watched an almost visceral change in their creator and Jazz became mentor/friend. "Love is more important than heritage or status. Tracks would never treat you the way you deserve."

Mirage nodded in acceptance, even if he hadn't understood at the time, and the memory faded out. 

~Exhaust-sucker,~ Sideswipe said, incredibly vindictively pleased by the expression they'd seen.

~Oh, but it is much better to tease him about Raoul,~ Mirage laughed in the shared space. ~Falling in love with an _organic_.~

~I hope that turned his first creation world upside down,~ Sideswipe said with an evil grin, nuzzling against Mirage.

~Now that's something I would have _really_ paid to see,~ Sunstreaker rumbled. ~The moment he realized he cared about an oil and flesh covered creature.~

~That, unfortunately, I was not witness to,~ Mirage nuzzled back. ~It must have been priceless, though. Do you have a good memory you would share?~

There was a hesitant flicker over the hardline, a sudden doubting of their choice. ~Um, it isn't quite as ... fancy,~ Sideswipe said. 

~I don't need fancy,~ Mirage promised him. 

The twins nodded and pulled up a memory of a small room with sheet metal walls, all unpainted gray, dull, with a single small berth. But everything that came across the hardline was _novel_ and _happiness_ just to be in the space.

Mirage watched, listened, felt with them. He'd known far worse in his existence now, and he could grasp how welcome a berth could be after metacycles in the field. He knew it wasn't quiet the same, but there was a level of understanding there.

The things he didn't understand, though, like being happy that the front wall was only lifted away _sometimes_ for viewings from potential buyers, or how this owner demanded a fair price, were foreign to him. 

~This is...~ Mirage said. 

~Our first room,~ Sunstreaker said proudly.

~The first time you had some privacy.~ Mirage made a quick connection. ~I thought you were pit fighters, gladiators?~

~Sure,~ Sideswipe said. ~But we always had a handler who arranged our matches and could sell our nights.~

~This was after the youngling pits,~ Sunstreaker said. ~No rooms there, just this,~ he showed a flicker of a row of cages. ~We got sold a couple times but it was always like that. After we performed well in the mechling upgrades this handler bought us and we had the room for a while.~

~It wasn't bad, though, buyers got fined for any significant damage, especially the higher we got, so most of them were just after the bragging rights.~

~Was ... no,~ Mirage tried to stop the question, but his silent wondering if their first had been gentle still made it through. ~Good memories tonight.~

~Good memories,~ Sunstreaker rumbled in agreement, and offered something else from that same room, the twins--awkward, uncoordinated in their upgrades, trying to figure out all the new coding that had been awakened at the same time--fumbling over each other's frames, groping and completely unlike anything that had been in Mirage's learning experiences--but there was closeness there that he still could not rival. 

~Good nights,~ Sideswipe purred.

~You are beautiful together, even then,~ Mirage purred, snuggling his presence with them as they watched. ~So close.~

~Not very refined,~ Sunstreaker chuckled, but there was a brilliant, thrilling flare through him as he remembered the way his brother's hand had felt on his spike for the first time. 

~...How did you learn?~ Sideswipe asked curiously.

~By elite pleasurebots crafted, sparked and trained to teach second creations how to pleasure another,~ Mirage's memories were happy to queue up. Those lessons, though demanding, had often been pleasant for him. ~I was taught by experience how to do everything that did not involve breaking my seals and told in detail how to perform that way as well.~

The twins saw a pair of ivory colored mecha with gold trim and stunning frames. One mech and one femme of unknown designation, but there was fondness in the memories. Built and designed for pleasure and to incite pleasure from sight alone, they would have been useless for much else. 

Kissing lessons alone had taken an entire decaorn, daily lessons with his hands held still in his lap doing nothing but kissing one of them while the other watched and critiqued. He'd enjoyed the mech more, on the whole, the sturdier frame, the power he could feel in the lines. It was correct in a way the twins didn't understand other than Mirage's murmur that he had anticipated being with a mech his entire existence. Even without coding or training, he wanted to find that form more appealing than others.

The twins caught glimpses of dozens of orns of lessons as Mirage shuffled through them, learning how to bring the pleasurebots to a tactile overload with a single finger, with just his mouth, techniques that took joors. It was vorns before he even laid a single hand on their equipment. Metacycles more before he was allowed to use his mouth. 

When Mirage felt the twins' focus sharpen very suddenly he stopped on the memory of kneeling down between the mech's legs and pushing his head down onto the erect spike while the femme guided him with words and light touches.

~You like that, thinking of my mouth there?~ Mirage purred at them. ~Or is it for watching me do that to another?~

~We're not sure,~ Sideswipe said, while Sunstreaker rumbled, ~Both,~ and they watched until the mech overloaded into his intake with no warning, startling Mirage at the unfamiliar, crackling feeling, which then caused transfluid to leak out from his mouth. 

The memory faded into a critique of technique and Mirage skipped ahead, finding another lesson with the mech, one that focused on glossa work, the quick swirls around the tip, small, precise licks up and down the side. With that memory he offered a video file the femme had taken as part of his education for his viewing and instruction. The twins moaned together. 

~Yeah, good memories,~ Sideswipe said.

~Did anyone offer a skilled mouth before I did?~ Mirage purred deeply, pulsing a bit more energy through the line.

~Got some mouths, but next to you, none of it has been _skilled_ ,~ Sideswipe said with a chuckle as Sunstreaker purred and sent small charges back across to Mirage. The noble arched and pulsed back, entwining their fields to share his pleasure and the preening he felt at their complement.

~They taught me not just how to perform well, but to enjoy giving the pleasure,~ Mirage moaned softly and reached for Sideswipe to pull him in for a kiss that rubbed their entire frames together.

Sideswipe pushed back with a groan and a strong surge of energy across the hardline. ~You're good at it,~ he praised the noble. ~Been with a lot of mecha, none as good as you.~

Sunstreaker rumbled in fervent agreement and pressed Mirage between them, face hidden in the crook of his neck, _solace_ flooding through his field as he drank in the presence of one of the only mecha in his existence that cared about _him_ rather than the credits he could earn them.

Mirage moaned and pressed into that contact as well, his field entwining and enveloping Sunstreaker in all the comfort and support Mirage could offer while Sideswipe was offered passion and desire and both were shown how much Mirage wanted them.

It echoed back intensely, _want_ and _love_ in a way that Mirage didn't even feel when they were thinking about each other. 

~Charge?~ Sideswipe asked with a soft whine, seeking the noble's spark frequency with his field, craving the expert touch that the noble was capable of.

~Charge, field, or I'll taste your spike,~ Mirage purred, offering images of his intent.

~ _Or?_ ~ Sunstreaker said. ~We have to _choose?_ ~

~Can you...~ Sideswipe said slowly, and offered a picture of Mirage between his legs, the hardlines still connected. ~I know this was supposed to be about hardline but ... mix and match?~

~Easily,~ Mirage trilled with a sense of excited adventure for the idea. ~Sunstreaker, would you keep you brother from touching me? So I may take my _time_ with his pleasure.~

Sunstreaker hummed in agreement and moved over the pair, bringing Sideswipe up with him. He leaned back against the wall, his twin against his chest. 

~Got you,~ Sunstreaker murmured over the bond, purring, as he held his twin's arms. 

~Always have me,~ Sideswipe purred back, reaching for Mirage's helm and stroking along a vent.

Mirage shivered and pressed into the contact, his pleasure, physical and emotional, flowing freely across his field and the hardline. Almost reluctantly he draw away to settle between Sideswipe's spread legs and began the painstakingly pleasurable effort to kiss every bit of the spike cover's edge before it slid open.

The pleasure went across the bond and hardline and Sideswipe moaned, his spike pressing up as soon as it was free. The images of Mirage with the pleasurebots were strong in their processors, everything they'd seen him doing with his glossa, how much he'd enjoyed feeling the thighs of the large mech beneath his palms. 

~'S good,~ Sideswipe moaned.

~Very good,~ Mirage purred back to them, eager and willing to share the pleasure of giving and accept the pleasure Sideswipe was receiving. Focused, he kissed his way up the hard length before giving tiny licks all the way around the base of the helm.

~Looks great,~ Sunstreaker purred in approval, head resting against Sideswipe's and watching with bright, focused optics. He brushed along Mirage's firewalls, affectionate and familiar, comfortable on that level as he watched silver lips against the bright red and black of his twin. The jolts of pleasure it sent into Sideswipe's system were shared and reveled in, the twins getting the first good look inside the helm of a mech who was very much enjoying giving pleasure like that. The touch of lips, the faint tingle of charge metal, the knowledge that every little sound and jolt was because he did well and was reading his lover correctly.

They were things that the twins grasped on a base level, and could repeat after lessons under Jazz's attention, but until now they'd never grasped that it wasn't a chore. Even when they did it out of affection and desire, it was still a chore.

This was no chore for Mirage. He was building a charge on it. Not in anticipation of having pleasure returned, but in the act itself.

It was incredibly arousing, knowing that just being there and aroused was enough for their lover. Just touching them and hearing their moans. 

The hardlines came _alive_ with rushing current that moved around all three in an endless loop, pushing them higher and higher as Mirage continued to work the spike before him and listened to their moans. He trilled his joy and pride to them and they rumbled back, Sideswipe's hips lifting up off the berth, pressing into his mouth as a reward for the work. He could feel his twin hard against his back, rubbing and whining from the charge.

With training in pleasure honed to an instinct, Mirage judged the moment when teasing pleasure to arouse was about to become torment and sank down around the spike until his lips were pressed against the housing and the tip was deep in his intake. Without hesitation he hummed and worked his lips around the housing, his glossa along the middle and his intake contracted and vibrated around the tip.

Sideswipe pulled against Sunstreaker's firm hold, straining and pushing and almost sobbing with relief. The hardline wide open between him and his twin, he could _feel_ everything in a way that enhanced the bond, with the pulses of charge moving over with each push against his back, timed to Mirage's rhythm. He could feel Sunstreaker nuzzling against Mirage's firewall, affectionate and unthreatened by the third presence in with them.

It was amazing, even if it wasn't the relief it had been at first. Then Sideswipe's awareness of anything but the pleasure radiating from his spike vanished when Mirage began to move. Drawing his helm up and sliding down with timing designed to set the red warrior off, and hard.

His engines _roared_ in time with his shout and he bucked up sharply, shooting his charge into Mirage's intake as a simultaneous, full-frame overload took him across the hardline. The current surged to his twin and the noble, crackling ecstasy across the lines. Sunstreaker's growling overload was immediate and just as strong against his brother's back while Mirage shuddered and moaned deeply, but kept his frame going, moving and pleasuring, despite the charge that wiped out his ability to think.

"Overload, babe," Sideswipe managed to mumble as soon as he came down a bit, already well familiar with this quirk of their lover. It was all Mirage needed, that soft permission-order, and he snapped his helm up to look the twins in the face as coding let go of its grip and he keened in the intense bliss that was the fallout of their pleasure.

They purred their enjoyment at the beauty of his overload, the way the slender frame seized and shook, his features washed out in the grip of it all. Sunstreaker let go of his twin's arms so he could catch Mirage and pull him tight as the charge ended, small static shocks still jumping between their frames where they touched.

Across the hardline the twins could hear and feel what they'd never managed with their audials or fields before: ~Love you, so good to me, so happy, so lucky, so right, good mechs.~

A brilliant, pulsing flare of _wonder-bliss-amaze_ came back from the twins as they carefully shifted onto their sides, Mirage tightly in Sideswipe's arms with Sunstreaker curled up behind. The hardline stayed open into recharge, comfortable and settled, knowing that these slow steps would work, and they were just that much closer to their goal.


	10. Wars End

Optimus Prime, as much as he had not enjoyed being a warrior Prime at the beginning of the war, was starting to have some definite nostalgia for the orns when everyone had been just too damn busy to _fuss_ over him. He'd heard the phrase Prime's Right so often it made his tanks want to boil, and he kept having to shoo off nosy polishers and would-be berth warmers who didn't seem to care that he already _had_ a pair to regularly share his berth with. A surprising amount of mecha had survived as Neutrals in the recesses of Cybertron, and with Shockwave and Darkmount fallen and their planet back, they were coming back up to the surface.

Yes, there were those who despised him as the leader of the Autobots, and there was eons of work to be done forging lasting peace and the base of a strong society without the same inherent weaknesses in the foundation that had led to the downfall of the Golden Age, but there was also an obnoxious amount of mecha who wanted him to be some kind of living god. 

He was _not_ that. He was a figurehead, an officiator, a peacemaker, a cultural leader, and he was working hard to destroy the lingering remnants of the former "benefits" that had once come with the title of Prime. He needed to be a servant to his people, not a master. The only political power he was planning on keeping was as a balance for the elected officials that would form the Consulate so they could never become the Senate that all but destroyed Cybertron the last time. The rest of his time would be spent caring for the spiritual office that the Prime had originally been intended to hold.

The thought brought a smile to his face, hidden by the battle mask. One of his more enjoyable duties, now, would be overseeing and blessing the bonding and union of any mecha who requested so. He'd never officiated a bonding before and he was looking forward to his first one. A real, proper spark bonding with a ceremony, speeches, oaths and gifts. And a party afterward with music and a special energon brew created just for the event.

Oh yes, the universe had changed in a vorn. It was all because of Prowl and Jazz, in good and bad. They'd tortured, assassinated, murdered and slaughtered in the metacycles following the capture of Vortex, but they had also bonded, calmed, and helped him craft the design for a government that held the highest probability of protecting the people. They'd also helped him craft the new Constitution and Bill of Rights with insights from such a spectrum of society that Optimus barely grasped had ever existed, mixed in smoothly with alien concepts -- like a Bill of Rights that applied to everyone, not just those in power. Of all the Autobots, they were among those who seemed to be adapting to peace the best, much to many mecha's surprise.

The twins were struggling, he could see that much, but with Mirage there to help support them, they were getting by. He hoped that the bonding would further their progress. He couldn't say he was pleased that the fighting contests that had once been for an extra ration had been taken up again, and definitely not with such gusto, but not even First Aid and Brainstorm could deny that it was _healthy_ for mecha who had that kind of energy to have an acceptable outlet. It was Prowl who'd reminded him that military builds _needed_ that kind of activity, and it was an effective means to curb the violent culture the former Decepticons were used to as they adapted to the more peaceful ways.

It was Optimus's first peacetime reminder that some mecha, some _sparks_ , were not peaceful and it was his duty to create a civilization where they could exist as well.

It was proving to be a challenge that was, in some ways, harder than fighting a war had been. At least in the war there were strict military protocols to follow, protocols that he admitted only to himself in the deepest recesses of his spark that he had at times been grateful to for making the hard decisions for him. Now he had nothing but his own will to do the right thing and his most trusted officers who understood that sometimes he needed to be ignorant of the details. It wasn't good, but it was as it should be for a Prime. The Prime was a spiritual leader. It was always meant to be that others did things to make the system work that were beyond the Prime's purpose and knowledge.

The war had mangled _everything_.

Except, perhaps, those that had been mangled worse by what lead to the war.

Drawing in a deep vent of sweetly clean Cybertronian atmosphere, Optimus Prime set himself to reviewing his part in the bonding ceremony to come as he checked his finish a last time.

* * *

"This is really happening?" Mirage looked at his House Lord as he attempted to contain his excitement at the pending signing of his bonding contract.

Jazz glanced up at him, pretending to scowl, before looking back down and continuing with his final, thorough read of the contract. Mirage knew he'd already read it more than once, Prowl had done a thorough review, and even Optimus had unofficially looked the document over. This was for show. 

"Yes, it is," Jazz finally said.

Mirage couldn't quite contain the trill of excitement or the ruffle of his armor and field at what was coming. It was all for show, he knew it. All for his benefit. The contract was illegal under the new government, as he wasn't the one signing it. It wouldn't even be recorded. But none of that mattered to Mirage's excited coding. What mattered was that his House Lord was carefully reviewing and about to sign the contract binding him to the mecha he loved.

"All right," Jazz finally said, set the datapad down, and lifted his head. "The terms are agreeable. Is this what you want?"

"Yes, my Lord," Mirage managed to contain his shiver of excitement this time.

He could tell that Jazz was fighting to keep a smile suppressed, and after a moment, the former SpecOps CO lifted a hand and rubbed it over his mouth before composing himself. He picked the datapad back up and made a show of skimming slowly up through it, occasionally glancing up at his attentive, squirming SIC. "And ... you are happy?"

"Very happy, my Lord," Mirage answered dutifully, momentarily hating the mech for playing with him. Jazz _had_ to sign. He just _had_ to.

Jazz hummed thoughtfully, drawing the torment out for as long as was acceptably possible before flicking his fingers in a quick scroll down to the bottom and signing the document with all the extravagance he could muster. He stood, letting his grin finally show. "You're adorable when you're trying to stay still." 

"I _knew_ you were playing with me!" Mirage exploded in mock anger that was completely derailed by his grin and giddily happy field. "That was _cruel_."

"It was _fun_ ," Jazz countered. "C'mon, let's go see if your twins haven't fritzed from impatience yet."

"Oh, they began fritzing as soon as I told them that there was still a contract to negotiate and sign," Mirage giggled.

"That wasn't all it took, was it?" Jazz gave his adopted creation a grin.

"Well, I may have implied that we'd have to behave like they're courting me until then," Mirage said innocently. "Something about not touching."

Jazz snickered in approval at the image as they headed out together for the next step of these unofficial proceedings. The twins would need to review and sign the contract while Prowl witnessed as their creator. "I don't think I like this giving you away thing," Jazz remarked after a few kliks of companionable silence. 

"You will always be able to call on me if you need to," Mirage assured him, as second creation, SIC and friend. "It's in the contract."

"Yeah," Jazz said with a one-shouldered shrug. "Call me selfish, but I like having your loyalty coding locked on me." He offered Mirage a hint of a smile. "Though I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have sign this," he held up the contract, "Than those two."

"I'm glad," Mirage smiled, and he meant it. Jazz's approval still meant the world to him. Even after his coding shifted, it would still mean a great deal to Mirage the mech.

Jazz slung an arm around his shoulders for a sideways hug and then they were at the door to Prowl's new office. "Well, let's get this over with," he said, and pinged. 

The door opened to them, revealing Prowl sitting at his desk and the twins standing nervously but intent in their focus on the pair.

"Welcome, Jazz, Mirage," Prowl greeted them as he stood. "Have you found the final terms agreeable?"

Behind Jazz and to his side, Mirage was calling on all his training to maintain the perfect posture and uninterested appearance he should have.

"I have," Jazz answered formally as Mirage's Lord, then relaxed and smiled at the younger mech. "We have." He held it forward to the twins. "I have signed my approval. If you still desire him and approve of these terms, he is yours to accept." 

Sideswipe took the pad and didn't even look at it before signing it, binding both of them as the first to separate of the twins before Prowl could do so much as step around to review it as their creator. Instead Prowl was relegated to a light chuckle before he took the pad and nodded his agreement that both signatures were valid.

"Congratulations. This second union of our families strengthens all of us," Prowl said seriously, though he put no effort into stilling his doorwings fluttering in pleasure. "Prime will be delighted to conduct the ceremony."

Mirage shivered in utter exaltation and glided to his soon-to-be-bonded. With utter seduction in every motion, he slid his hands up Sideswipe's chest and offered himself for a kiss. In response, Sideswipe wrapped his arms around the noble's waist and lifted, spinning him around in their air with a playful, growling rev of his engines before setting him firmly back down on his pedes and taking a kiss before stepping aside for Sunstreaker to do much the same. 

Jazz allowed it for another half klik before clearing out his vocalizer. "There is still a ceremony to conduct," he reminded them with deceptive mildness. 

"And a Prime is not to be kept waiting, especially when the entire allied universe is watching," Prowl added in a mix of teasing and truth.

That reminder made the twins tense up just that much more even as Mirage brightened and preened. The gaze of the universe was on Cybertron, and the first official peacetime bonding since the planet's hasty recolonization was going to serve as a barometer for governments who were still deciding whether this new Prime was one they wanted to associate with. 

"No pressure," Jazz told the twins teasingly, and got a glare in response. Out of habit, he held his arm out for Mirage to take as they all gathered up to walk to the ceremony. Pure reflex put Mirage on it, his coding still locked on Jazz as the final authority.

That would change, very soon.

The younger noble could already feel the first transitions and it wasn't comfortable at all, feeling his alliance and reliance on the mech that had taken him in, kept him alive and cared enough to protect him even after he lost his seals begin to fade as line by line the coding was rewritten. By the time he rebooted, sparkbound to the twins, Jazz would be no more important to him than anyone who held his rank. It was frightening, and exciting, and Mirage allowed himself a moment to pretend that he wasn't Second in Command of the former Autobot Special Operations, commander of his own special task force, decorated war hero. 

For that moment he was young, and something as small as this, in the grand scheme of things, was the greatest adventure he'd ever had.

He and Jazz waited until Prowl and the twins had left before walking slowly after them. Optimus and every single surviving Autobot would be waiting by now. Plenty of Neutrals and some former Decepticons that had surrendered and passed the screening to be free citizens would also be there. It was, without question, the largest gathering of Cybertronians since well before the Ark had fled more than forty-eight Cybertronian centuries before.

The path to the stage where the ceremony would take place was through the capital building rather than the gathered crowd, though they all knew that Optimus had taken the long way through the crowd so he could meet and greet as many as possible, surprising Neutrals and Decepticons alike by using their designations. So very few understood the full extent of the social and processor upgrades involved in becoming a Prime. Optimus knew the designation of every mecha, every _being_ he had ever encountered and could pronounce them flawlessly.

They arrived at their entrance just as Optimus finished climbing the steps up to the platform that had been constructed just for this purpose. They'd gone through their roles and the schedule for the ceremony in private the previous evening, but somehow the massive crowd was making it so much more real. 

"See you out there," Jazz told Mirage, squeezing the hand on his arm before letting go and moving to take up Prowl's arm as the two decorated officers stepped out onto the stage together to flank their leader. Past the entrance, and the Prime, the remaining three could see the massive grouping of mecha. 

The twins were just staring at it, frozen. 

"Don't tell me you're scared," Mirage teased. "Didn't you perform for crowds that numbered in the ten thousands?" 

"Yeah but we're not going out there to kill something," Sunstreaker said, shifting nervously. "That would be a whole lot easier." 

Mirage stepped between them and flared his field out. "No, you are going out there to claim what is yours so the entire universe knows not to touch me," he purred seductively.

The twins startled a little at that perspective of the entire thing, then closed in around him. 

"Have we ever told you," Sideswipe purred into one audial, as Sunstreaker took advantage of the lack of chaperone to dip his head down to Mirage's neck. 

"That you are perfect?" the yellow twin finished. 

"Not often enough," Mirage moaned softly and willingly sank into their embrace, his field dancing with theirs in an offer of pleasure to come.

They groaned softly--the mere handful of decaorns since the last time they had _really_ touched the noble had felt like endless vorns--and tightened in around him, black hands a sharp contrast over the brilliantly painted and polished lighter frame, covered in dancing gold glyphs of his House and his command. Even his mouth had been painted and Sideswipe claimed it eagerly as Sunstreaker's hands moved down to slide over his aft, then his hips, tugging back. 

"Ah- _hem_ ," a painfully familiar, stern voice interrupted. 

The twins cringed, sighed, and looked up to see Ratchet standing there, arms crossed under his bumper, optic ridge raised and even one pede tapping to complete the image. 

"Jazz asked me to babysit," the medic informed them. "Something about keeping you lot from sneaking in a quickie." 

"Just a bit of tactile and field," Mirage countered from where he was molded between his lovers.

"Not what it looked like to me," Ratchet said gruffly, then gave them another stern look. "Don't make me sit on you to keep you out of their reach."

Mirage's field blanched at the very idea, enough that it forced the twins to let go.

Ratchet looked unimpressed, and continued to give them the same look.

"What!" Sideswipe complained. "We let go, didn't we?" 

"Further," Ratchet said. 

"...What?"

"I said further," the medic repeated. "Arms out, like this," he instructed, stretching his arms out as far as they could go on either side in demonstration. "Now keep going until you can't reach at all."

"I recall learning this as an interrogation method," Mirage said dryly even as they complied. "Prime wanted to ban it for cruelty."

"How long is he going to _talk?_ " Sunstreaker glared out at the stage where Optimus Prime was going on about how joyful an occasion this was that there was once more enough security that mecha were willing to bind their sparks together.

"Until Jazz loses patience with not 'facing Prowl into a flat surface," Ratchet huffed. "He _loves_ giving speeches. Those battlefield rallies you've heard are nothing. Mech will be at this until morning if your creators let him."

The twins blanched at that, and even Mirage looked a little wobbly. 

"Please Jazz please," Sideswipe said pleadingly, looking out. "If you do _one_ thing for us in your whole life..." 

Ratchet snickered. "As I recall, he didn't _have_ to sign the contract..." 

Sunstreaker glared at him. 

"Oh come on, war-hardened mecha like you, and you can't even wait an orn?" Ratchet said, and it almost sounded like he was _teasing_ them.

"Do you have _any_ idea how long we've waited for this?" Sideswipe hissed. "How long we haven't gotten to _touch_."

"Not as long as Mirage's shortest mission, I know that much," Ratchet said, rolling his optics. "Honestly. I'd think you weren't even 200, the way you're acting." 

"And what about you?" Mirage asked smoothly, turning the dynamic of the conversation around so quickly that Ratchet immediately looked suspicious. "Don't I recall you showing up late to a few meetings? Should we be expecting wedding bells?"

"No," the medic glowered at them.

"I'm sorry," Mirage actually did look and sound contrite, which made Ratchet even more suspicious. "No one should have to suffer that."

"Plenty of us do just find without being love-struck morons," Ratchet grumbled. "Aht!" he pointed at Sideswipe. "I saw that!" 

"Saw _what?_ " Sideswipe asked, exasperated. 

"You leaned closer," Ratchet said. "None of that."

The red warrior huffed but straightened his posture as the four of them waited, listening to the speech go on, and on, seemingly forever. Eventually Optimus seemed willing to show them mercy, or Jazz got bored, whichever worked, and they were called to join the three on stage.

~Whoa,~ Sideswipe said over the bond, as the crowd broke into wild cheers. It was mostly for the twins and the event itself, and all three of them knew it--Mirage had never been popular among ranks and his obvious noble appearance and insistence on the traditions of his class even after the war hadn't helped matters. 

Even so, it was a breathtaking sight. 

Mirage took his place next to Jazz and the twins moved to stand in front of Prowl as the older couple separated to different halves of the stage. An arch had been constructed in the middle, made of battle-scarred metal but burnished to a bright, shining hue and etched in such a way that the sunlight across the surface made it look like a shimmering spark.

~It's beautiful,~ Sunstreaker murmured in agreement, but his gaze was focused on Mirage, who despite their touching earlier was flawless and looked every bit the noble he was. He was out of place, out of time, for not even the Prime had the finish and detailing that the minor noble second creation sported.

~Don't care. He's our glitch.~ Sunstreaker worked not to grin as he saw their lover through an artist's optics.

~He is,~ Sideswipe purred, hardly listening as Prowl began to speak about them. ~Won't it be strange to have someone in here with us?~ he suddenly mused. 

~I think it will be strange but good,~ Sunstreaker said. ~Just like normal mecha who are getting a bond for the first time. Isn't _that_ a strange thought, though?~

~Very,~ Sideswipe agreed, and then they managed to stand in relative stillness for the rest of Prowl's speech--tiny, compared to Prime's. He stepped back and Jazz took his place to talk warmly of the noble he'd taken in so long ago.

When Jazz finished speaking of Mirage, he held his hand up, asking Prime for another moment at center stage. The audience stilled, curious.

"Everyone knows who I am," Jazz stood proudly as Prowl suddenly stepped up to support his mate, who leaned back fractionally into the contact. "Most of you have some idea of what I am. There are not a handful left that know what I was," his hand lifted to cover Prowl's on his shoulder. "If a miner can bring down an empire, a dock worker become the Prime, a commoner bond to a noble. If we can forgive the Decepticons their slaughter, they forgive Autobots our slaughter, Neutrals forgive us all for destroying this world, and both sides of the war forgive Neutrals for staying out of it, I think we can do anything. Look in yourselves and ask why you look down on someone who still honors what he was created to be when he hurts no one by doing so, when there are not a score of mecha here that have not run from their past just as hard as he holds onto his." He paused, looking out at the strange gathering, then inclined his helm with a smile. "Just think about it." 

With a squeeze of Prowl's fingers, the couple stepped to the back of the stage, out of the light and gave the orn to their creations.

Prime stepped forward once more and gestured each side of the bonding to approach, then took Mirage's hand and placed it in Sideswipe's. The other went to Sunstreaker. 

"I am certain," Optimus said, "That very little needs to be said at this point. You may sing."

Mirage made a small, completely involuntary sound of excitement before he opened his mouth and began to hum, a pure note that went right to his bonded's split spark and made it tumble and lunge in its cages, resonating eagerly as the sound became words. Praises and promises, adoration and affection that had grown slowly over the course of centuries until it consumed Mirage's every spare thought and moment.

This ceremony, the audience, the location, none of it was perfect. He should have been covered in small, perfect crystals from his bonded's House to resonate with. A piece of his House crystal should have been inlaid in his helm for them to sing to--and Mirage had seriously considered cutting down the single piece he still had, and in the end decided against, preferring to keep his crystal whole. The proceedings, even the Prime, none of it was perfect. 

Which meant his song _had_ to be. The one thing he could still control. He tucked dozens of layers of meaning into a single note, wove his past, their future into the harmony. He knew the audience had to be staring, most of them probably thought this was ridiculous, but his world had narrowed to the twins and his Song to their spark. That they, his bonded, his love, accepted his Song was all that mattered, and he could teek so very clearly that they did.

They were in awe. They were full of love.

This part, what he had to offer, was flawless in a way nothing was anymore.

For a few precious kliks as he sang, Mirage could forget everything had changed and he sank into it fully, willingly, recording this perfection in the highest quality he was capable of without compromising his vows in song.

When the final note faded, Mirage was assaulted by the desire in the twin's field, how it resonated and flared with his own and he knew he'd accomplished the Song correctly.

He looked expectantly at the Prime, waiting for the signal from him that the vows had been accepted so the ceremony could hurry up and _end_ already, but found the mech looking, instead, at the twins. "You may sing," he said, and Mirage felt the floor drop out from under him while simultaneously being lifted up to soar in the stars. 

The twins looked nervous as soon as they heard those words, but shouldered up their courage and reminded themselves why they were here before looking at Mirage. Sideswipe began first, before Sunstreaker joined in with the lower harmony. Their song was technically much simpler than his had been, but no less honest and every bit as promising for the future. Desire for him rang through every note and glyph, the willingness to change and learn. The _desire_ to change, to heal, for him. 

By the halfway point Mirage was _quivering_ at what they offered, his voice desperate to answer them and _sing_ his joy, but he held silent. It wasn't time, not yet. His field had no such restrictions as it reached out and enveloped the twins, their notes almost faltering at teeking how deeply Mirage felt for this.

He knew his cue the moment they sang it. He didn't even stop to wonder how they could know about such an old Towers custom before joining his voice with theirs, as each ringing note came with another line of his code shifting his final loyalty to them. He was joining in with their song, coding working as hard as it could, using everything he knew about them and could feel about them to kick the powerful conformation code into high gear.

Every line that changed was permanent. Every glyph was one more piece of his processors devoted to them. By the end, he was in perfect sync with their voices, singing a song he'd never heard before but somehow, he _knew_. He could teek their shock and amazement, and as the final note was held by all three he felt his code lock into place, unchangeable, forever. 

The silence after the last echo stopped ringing was almost deafening. Mirage stared up at the twins, intakes working rapidly to draw in cool air. "I ... think everyone is staring," he said, the only words that would come to mind.

"Wow." It was the only thing that Sideswipe could manage.

Sunstreaker was still in complete shock, but he moved, driven by the sensations across their entwined fields to wrap his arms around Mirage and draw him in for a long, passionate kiss that was every bit as claiming as the song and code, and every bit as expressive of his desire and devotion to the mech in his arms.

Behind them Prime chuckled and said something that sounded official, which was all the trio needed to hear before Mirage was swept up between them and the crowd's wild applause and cheering broke out. 

Mirage felt a hand on his shoulder and managed to look up long enough from the kiss to see Optimus, who had just murmured something he hadn't heard at all. "Yes ... my Prime?" he managed. 

"You may retire to your bonding suite," Optimus repeated warmly, and there was amusement in his voice. "I believe it will be a more comfortable location." Past him, Mirage saw Jazz lean over and whisper something into Prowl's audial, something that made the Praxian's doorwings shoot up in excited anticipation. Before he could watch any more of that, he was being lifted by two very, very eager mechs whose engines would growl possessively at anyone who tried to come close.

Mirage contained the giddy, delighted physical laughter, but didn't contain his field, or that he approved of their possessiveness. Oh, he so very much approved of it. Delighted in it. He was _theirs_ and they valued him enough to warn off anyone.

Between the two of them, they carried him back into the capital, completely against the plan that had been laid out for the ceremony, the party, the entire evening, but something in Optimus's field as they disappeared was not even the slightest bit surprised. 

The bonding suite was hastily constructed, like everything else, but it was vast with a hot oil pool--cheap, imported Earth motor oil--and a massive berth with thick padding, the only truly luxurious thing in the entire room. 

Sunstreaker set Mirage down, only for him to be immediately lifted again by Sideswipe, hefted up into the air with one arm around his waist and the other hand on his aft. Without even thinking about it, Mirage's panels, all of them, slid open in offering and desire as strong as his bondeds. He _wanted_ , and he wanted just as badly as his bonded.

His _bonded_. 

Another bout of excited laughter escaped him as Sideswipe walked him backwards until he was pressed against the wall as his thighs spread out around his mate's waist. A mouth crushed against his in a kiss before powerful arms shifted him up and with the full force of the frontliner's engines, the extending spike pierced him in a single push.

 _Pleasure_ like nothing Mirage knew surged through him and he screamed the bliss out to any and all who might hear. His bonded was _good_. Protocols that Mirage didn't have the wherewithal to activate ran on their own, responding automatically to being penetrated by this mech. His valve cycled and squeezed, rubbed and crackled, slick with lubricant and wild with desire.

Sideswipe's knees buckled and he almost sank down to the ground before Sunstreaker caught him from behind, helping to hold him up as his hips pushed and shoved into his lover. Mirage's arms went around his neck, gripping desperately as he was lifted up and down, helpless to do anything in Sideswipe's hold except hang on. 

It took Sideswipe less than five kliks to overload and he roared in release, drawing a keening, warbling scream from Mirage as the noble's lighter frame locked up in the cascading surges of energy from their intense overload.

"My turn," Sunstreaker rumbled as he reached around his trembling brother to get his hands on Mirage and lifted the compliant frame from his brother's spike. Unlike Sideswipe, he brought Mirage to the berth and settled under him. "Going to give you the ride of your life," he grinned up as he brought Mirage down on his spike. Hands on slender hips, Sunstreaker moved Mirage in time with his thrusts, reveling in the lingering crackle of his brother's charged transfluid and his own ability to maintain awareness in this position.

Mirage arched up and back, one arm going up and behind his tossing helm as the fingers from the other hooked in his open mouth before pulling down along his neck. It was what Sunstreaker wanted to see. He could _tell_ it was what Sunstreaker wanted to see. Sensors that had been so finely honed for generations before him were getting readings that were detailed on a level he'd never experienced before, alerting him to even the smallest change in Sunstreaker's field as he moved, writing prediction software, learning, adapting. 

It felt _incredible_.

Then Sideswipe was against his back, urging him to lean forward as Sunstreaker stilled. To his new understanding, the message couldn't have been clearer. Sideswipe wanted inside his valve, too.

He groaned--triad coding that had long been part of his House and line trickled up in his processor in answer to their Praxian heritage--and did his best to angle himself properly. "Have you ever done this before?" he managed to gasp.

"A few times," Sunstreaker reassured him, holding still as Sideswipe pressed a finger into the tight opening. "Haven't hurt anyone yet."

"Not that we didn't intend to at least," Sideswipe moaned in anticipation of the tightness around his finger being around his spike. "Never going to hurt you."

Mirage nodded and rested his head in the crook of Sunstreaker's neck, quivering as his instinctively drew his legs forward, opening himself up and trying to relax his valve as much as possible. "What should I do?" 

"Hold still and let Sides guide," Sunstreaker murmured, rubbing one of his helm vents.

"Just relax. I'll do all the work," Sideswipe promised.

"And if anything stretches too much, doesn't feel good, _tell_ us," Sunstreaker said firmly. "It's okay if it doesn't work out."

"Yeah," Sideswipe shivered in arousal as he worked a second finger in, teeking and feeling for any pain. "We've got a lifetime to work you up to this. No rush."

Mirage nodded and his fingers curled around the top of Sunstreaker's hood as his optics dimmed, his concentration and focus going entirely into preparing himself for this. The press of the fingers was good--tight, but good--and then an unhelpful part of his processor reminded him that he'd once been far less prepared and taken far more than this and still survived intact. Cracked, torn, and shredded, but intact. 

The memory brought an unpleasant shiver and Sideswipe froze. 

"Sorry--" Mirage muttered, and tried to shake it. "Sorry--didn't mean--"

"What is it?" Sunstreaker's voice was unusually gentle, especially considering the charge crackling through his circuits and along his plating.

"Just--been stretched like that before," Mirage said, and there was _shame_ that he could still be affected like this. This was their bonding orn, this was for happier memories. 

Which left him with two choices. Lie, shove everything down, and know that he'd enjoy whatever they decided to do no matter how uncomfortable he currently was at the idea, or do what he knew they wanted him to do, and find a different, easier way. "I need to move slower than this," he said, and his voice was clear and steady. "After you're both coating me," he murmured, lifting his head for a kiss.

Sunstreaker's agreement, and approval for him speaking up, rumbled clearly in the kiss, as did the affection and easy acceptance that came from Sideswipe's field as the fingers drew out smoothly but quickly.

"We have all the time we need," Sideswipe repeated his brother's promise and flopped to his side on the berth to watch. "You're both molten hot to watch."

Sunstreaker simply rumbled and grabbed Mirage's hips again before thrusting up, then holding the noble above him as he pulled back for another thrust.

"Definitely--going to master it before we create," Mirage gasped at the next strike from below. "Can you imagine--nnh--siring like that?"

The twins moaned deeply, Sunstreaker only a couple thrusts from being overcome by the pleasure. "Eventually you'll take us that way too," Sideswipe offered images to his brother and the yellow warrior roared. His hips jerked upward, again and again to pump hot, thick, energy-rich transfluid deep into his lover, his bonded. It grabbed Mirage and he shook with the current, static crackling between their frames as he shouted his pleasure to them. 

"Primus," Mirage gasped, when he could talk again, looking between them, before slumping onto Sunstreaker's chest. "Give me a klik, then I want to try again when it isn't a surprise."

"Only if you're ready," Sideswipe said as Sunstreaker mumbled in agreement with a sloppy kiss. "Primus, I've never seen anything as incredible as you just were," Sideswipe moaned before turning Mirage's face for a kiss.

"Yeah, same rules as before. Doesn't matter that we're bonded now. We never want to do something you aren't ready to try," Sunstreaker said seriously, watching his mate and brother kiss and not hiding how well it revved his engine. "We want you to _tell us_ if that coding wants you to do something you don't want to."

Mirage nodded absently. He'd gotten his own talk from Jazz about the dangers of his coding and its potential strength to control him if he wasn't careful. He was certain the twins had heard the same, and probably with a few additions he hadn't had in his. "Won't be a problem," he promised them. "Since you want me to enjoy everything and not rush myself, it'll be exactly what I want. I'm ready, I want to try, please?"

"Anytime," Sideswipe shivered at what was on offer. "Your coding may say we own you, but the truth is the other way," he murmured as he caught another kiss before moving between his brother's legs to run his hands teasingly along Mirage's hips and aft. He leaned forward to kiss as far up Mirage's back as he could. "Anything for you." Another kiss. "Anytime you want." Another kiss as he traveled down Mirage's spinal strut. "Anywhere you want." Another kiss and black hands slid inward to allow a finger on each side to stroke the platelets Sunstreaker's spike was currently surrounded by. "Anything you want."

"Sides, you're going to _kill me_ with those images!" Sunstreaker growled, his systems heating up quickly even as he made the effort to be still.

"Can't wait to share them with you," Mirage said faintly, his optics flickering and distant from the pleasant buzz from two intense overloads, the words, the promise of so much more to come. His platelets ruffled and fluffed out into the wandering fingers and his recently sated frame helped his valve relax when Sideswipe swirled a finger around the opening testing. "What's he imagining?" he asked Sunstreaker as he settled down onto the bright yellow chest. Part of him wanted to know, and part of him needed a distraction.

"How it'll feel to have both of us in you. How it'll feel when he's between us," Sunstreaker groaned as a finger pressed into the slick valve alongside his spike. "Kissing me as your spike slides along his inside me." His hands ran along Mirage's sides, playing and stroking in the seams. "What it'll be like with an open bond, when we'll feel _everything_ from it."

"It'll be good," Mirage purred, squirming into the contact from both twins. "Can't wait for all of it," he sighed happily. "Finally getting to _know_ you." He spoke in the singular, the words directed at the single spark that powered two frames. That spark was his mate, a single entity that he craved to meet in its complete form. 

Sideswipe rubbed two fingers up and down and Sunstreaker shivered from it, Mirage feeling it easily through his chassis. "He feels good," he moaned in agreement.

"It'll be so much better soon," Sideswipe promised, encouraged by Mirage's response as a third finger joined in, stretching Mirage to the point of pain, but it was the kind of pain that he knew from experience would fade quickly. It was the pain of being asked to stretch just a bit further than he was ready, but only a bit. He knew Sideswipe felt it, too, because both warriors went still, waiting and feeling for Mirage to be ready. Only then did Sideswipe began to slid his fingers in and out, bringing them together so Mirage got a feel for how he would have to stretch, and how.

Mirage whimpered--it hurt, it stretched--but it was _good_ , too. He wanted this. He wanted to feel the twins' spikes rubbing together inside him. 

When Sideswipe added a fourth finger, Mirage thought he might explode once it, too, began to rock in and out.

"We can stop, start with a smaller toy," Sunstreaker suggested, concerned by the tension in Mirage's frame.

Mirage shook his head, pressed his forehelm to Sunstreaker's chest and x-vented. "No. I'll hurt but I'll adjust quickly once you start."

He felt more than knew the pair were talking over their bond, a bond he would soon be part of, but it didn't generate enough of a delay that Mirage had time to worry and Sideswipe's fingers were moving again while Sunstreaker worked to give him more pleasure to focus on with his hands and mouth.

His head was lifted up for a kiss--soft but sweet and molten in a way that Sunstreaker had been slow to learn but oh so good now that he had--and hands were rubbing just perfectly over his sides. "Tell me what it's like," he said with a soft moan. "Having a bond with someone." 

"Tell us what it's like not having a bond with someone," Sunstreaker said with a low chuckle. 

"Try," Mirage said, before his mouth was caught up again.

"It's always knowing that he's safe, or if he's not at least that he's alive. It's being able to give strength and shoulder a burden together even a world apart," Sideswipe spoke while his brother kissed. "It's never being alone. Never being abandoned by _that one_. Never having to ask if he's ready, or if he means it, or what the plan is."

"Mmm, some of that's as much about a literal lifetime together, but yeah, all that." Sunstreaker added.

"Sounds nice," Mirage murmured with a shiver of anticipation for sharing that with them. 

"Guess so," Sunstreaker said, continuing his distracting strokes and kisses. "More just ... _is_." 

Sideswipe chuckled as he carefully twisted his wrist, feeling the valve walls taut against his fingers, stretched too far to flex or grip as he moved. "It's kind of like when we're using the hardline. But less ... _code_ , more free? Just feeling and knowing. Hardline's nice but, there's a lot of broken code in us. Sparks can be hurt but they don't _break_. So it's ... dunno, it's, it's just _us_. Or--when we're in there, I guess it's ... _me_. Like we're supposed to be. Me, not us." 

Mirage stilled, trying to imagine what Sideswipe was struggling to explain. "Your other half." And suddenly he was worried about how he could even compare with something like that. 

"Soon to be his other third," Sunstreaker purred, trying to contain his desire to thrust and the whine building in him at taking so long.

Mirage stilled, shivered at the next slow twist, then all but lunged for Sunstreaker's mouth. "I love you," he moaned into it.

Sideswipe took the distraction to withdraw his fingers and press the tip of his spike into the well-stretched valve. ~Remember, doc said this'll hurt at first, just like breaking seals. It just won't hurt for long.~

"Mmm, love you too, babe," Sunstreaker grinned when his mouth was finally released. "Soon you'll _know_ how much, just like that glitch behind you does."

"I am not a glitch," Sideswipe groused, and keeping his voice steady and relaxed was _so_ hard. Mirage had gone rigid between them and he ran a hand down their lover's back strut. "You all right?" he murmured. 

"It hurts," Mirage said, and shifted his hips, wincing when it didn't help. "Can you stay like that and not move?"

"Yes," Sideswipe said with the same kind of finality he did when asked if they would win an arena match. They'd do it or go down trying.

Mirage nodded and flickered gratitude into his field, carefully rocking and pushing down at a speed that he could control. The shaft was wider than the head and he held there for a klik until the sharp pain turned into a dull one. Sunstreaker was trembling beneath him and he nuzzled his chest in gratitude for their patience. 

It took him three full breems to sink down fully onto Sunstreaker and halfway onto Sideswipe. "Okay," he finally said, and reached back for Sideswipe's thigh, gripping. "Push in."

The pair groaned in unison that was more about relief than pleasure, but despite what Mirage could feel in the frames against his, Sideswipe pressed forward slowly, intent on not hurting the mech that was trusting them so much.

"Not ... going ... to...." Sideswipe couldn't even finish his sentence, but his field spoke for him. The last bit to slide into Mirage was a true thrust and ended with both twins roaring and exploding into the stretched passage they were filling.

The mix of the sudden liquid charge combined with the stretching, tearing pain that shot through his valve rim made Mirage cry out and shake and he grabbed Sunstreaker, x-venting heavily and hanging on through their overload. By the end, the pleasure mixed with everything else had turned the pain into a dull ache and he lifted his head to look up at a panting Sunstreaker, and raised one optic ridge at him. "You had better still have enough left in you to keep going," he said archly. "I _do_ expect a proper frag after all that work."

"Oh yeah, we have more," Sideswipe chuckled from behind and kissed him. "You ready for some actual movement?"

"I believe so," Mirage said, and shifted his focus to the stretched lining and the way he could feel his frame adjusting to the massive combined girth that was lodged in his valve. Repair systems were working rapidly on the micro-tears, fixing him to a size that would be able to expand this far when he needed it without the damage. The cycling housing behind the lining would be able to squeeze down when tightness for a smaller size was needed, expand without damage when he took both of them. "Move slowly."

Without a word between them, Sideswipe held still while Sunstreaker carefully rolled his hips back and down. The sensation of rubbing against his brother made both of them shiver and gasp, but they managed to keep their wits for now.

Mirage groaned deeply, his back arching as his hips pushed back automatically. "Tell me--um--tell me about the first time you did this. What was it like. Being pressed together inside someone. Good?"

"Unbelievably good," Sideswipe moaned, holding still as Sunstreaker slowly pushed in. "It's so tight, so much sensation."

"Want ... want to feel? Hardline?" Sunstreaker suddenly offered as he stilled, as fully seated in his mate as he could be.

The answer was fingers scrambling for his port with a cable in hand, plugging in the moment it spiraled open, tumbling down through all the layers of firewalls they'd managed to lower at this point. It hadn't been easy--lingering cultural beliefs, difficult realizations about each other--but they'd gotten far. 

Mirage landed against the last firewall they'd left up and shuddered from the charge that came across. He was dimly aware of the brothers swapping a cable around him before Sideswipe's awareness came up against him, along with everything the red twin was feeling. The physical pleasure came from him, the emotional jumble from Sunstreaker, all of it _good_. His hips bucked, the fastest movement so far, in response to the desire and impulses that they were both trying to hold in check.

"Yeah, yeah, you get it," Sunstreaker moaned, relieved that their lover could at least get the pleasure this way. They didn't need to do this often. It was just fun, a really good frag, nothing important like finally getting to be inside Mirage, or having him inside them.

Oh yeah, that was so badly needed. The other stuff felt good, but this, the penetrative, this was what they lived on, interface-wise. This and sparks, but sparks were only for each other, and soon for Mirage. A triad, Prowl had called it, nostalgic and all soft like he got about so few things, mostly Jazz. Soon Mirage would make them three frames and one spark.

Or close enough, at least.

Sideswipe gasped and pulled back, slowly, as much for Mirage's benefit as to make the pleasure last longer. 

When Mirage stayed relaxed he pushed forward again, and it pulled the first true, ecstatic cry from the noble since they'd started this and the noble gripped Sunstreaker, shoving his hips back down so hard that the twins were both jammed together inside him without any warning. "Again," Mirage moaned. "Both of you again."

The pair obeyed without hesitation or even thought. They pulled back in unison, both sets of hands on Mirage's hips, and thrust forward together, driving into their lover as hard as they felt he wanted. He rocked back into them, coding latching onto their pleasure, now that it was offered in such a way that helped him to ignore the pain. He was _full_ of his lovers, in the way they liked best, and now he wanted to overload with them. 

He wanted a biting, scratching, _screaming_ and thrashing overload, wanted to feel the electricity burning through him, and the best way for that to happen, was to ride them hard and fast. He braced himself on Sunstreaker's chest, felt Sideswipe grip his hips in response, and began to _move_.

His lovers moved with him, too caught up in his desires and their own charge to manage more than a background thread checking that Mirage wasn't being seriously damaged. Sore in the morning was expected, a given, even once he was used to them he'd be sore. But anything that might need a medic would bring them to a screeching halt and they all were at least peripherally aware of it.

Sunstreaker grunted, Sideswipe groaned, Mirage gasped and panted as all three frames worked in a perfect tandem to drive Mirage's charge as high as he could take. Mirage's head tossed back and he screamed wildly when his frame could stand no more, skyrocketing charge driving him over the edge and leaving him seizing in their arms. His valve spasmed against their spikes, hot and stretched, his optics flared white before they shorted with his vocalizer, leaving him open-mouthed and silent as he bucked with a wild abandon they'd never seen in him. 

If it hadn't been such a captivating sight, they would have lost it right there, but neither could bring themselves to miss this moment, not even for what promised to be one of the most intense overloads of their lives.

It was only when Mirage began to unlock that Sunstreaker gave a hard thrust and roared with an abandon that was completely him, taking his willing brother with him to fill Mirage full to overflowing with energy-rich transfluid as their charge surged into him across hardline and plating.

Mirage overloaded again immediately. Fluid leaked out around their spikes as they pushed, smearing their thighs with the mix of lubricant and transfluid.

It crackled out into the air and left them all gasping as Mirage's arms gave out and he slumped forward, shaking. "Oh--ow--nn, wow--" He tried to push himself up, failed, and resigned to laying there. 

Not that it was unpleasant. "Ow," he said with a gasping laugh. "Oh--don't you move, don't you dare," he said, reaching back to grab Sideswipe as soon as the red twin shifted. 

"Just trying not ta crush ya," Sideswipe mumbled but stilled on command, his own frame control limited.

"Never that good before," Sunstreaker gasped in absolute awe.

"Mhmm," Mirage hummed, and settled with a contented sigh. He brushed against the firewalls, calm, quietly requesting even as his lowered his last. 

There was a moment of lazy, wondering-why tension, and the pair dropped the last of their firewalls with the clear thought that they would soon share sparks. Firewalls were beyond moot.

~Thank you,~ Mirage sighed, reveling in the openness there. He touched the core of the awareness and felt them shy away from him when it brushed over shattered coding that went all the way back to very, very early sparklinghood. 

Abandonment. Solidarity only in each other. Inability to trust. Expectancy of failure and betrayal. 

That coding made them vicious, built walls around their sparks, and there was _shame_. 

Mirage saw. He hummed, and sent a soft, trilling note to the scattered bits of code that made of the pair's core. They could trust him. He'd given them his Song. He could hurt them, abandon them, betray them no more than they could each other.

With all his firewalls down, they believed him. He felt that, felt their thoughts and amazement at the very idea, and also how much they craved it. He also felt, saw, how difficult it was for them, even with all the firewalls down. They didn't doubt _him_ , not at all, but the idea that they could trust _anyone_ was so very difficult down at this level of cobbled together sense of self.

Mirage opened himself up to them, everything he was, down to his core and pressed that forward. ~I love you, my bondeds,~ he murmured, the last of his energy going into those words. He shut down into automatic recharge and the twins glanced at each other.

Without so much as a thought-glyph between them, they carefully withdrew from their lover and laid him on his back. While Sideswipe confirmed that they'd done no more damage than expected, then spread nanite-rich medical salve all around the inside of Mirage's valve to set in the healing and dull the pain, Sunstreaker opened the small medical access point to Mirage's primary fuel tank and used a tube to pour a half cube of energon in.

With Mirage taken care of as they would take care of each other, they shared a cube and the remaining half, then settled in to recharge on either side of their mate, the bond full of wonder even as they carefully raised firewalls that were turned more inward than out around the worst of their broken coding to protect Mirage from being infected by it as they all recharged.

* * *

Mirage arched his back through the overload as it claimed him completely, frame and spark, gripping Sideswipe's arms with his head back on Sunstreaker's shoulder. It left them panting together, dazed and only sated for the moment, and he lifted his hands to Sideswipe's face, bringing him in for an uncoordinated kiss. 

Their chests came flush, the armor was loose, Mirage's spark surged forward in its crystal. Wordlessly, he let the latches unlock, and the click was impossibly loud over the sound of their cooling systems. He, _they_ heard the answering clicks of the twins, both of them all but conditioned to respond to his desires by now.

Even without hardlines or the first tendrils connecting, even when their chambers were still moving forward, all three could feel the excitement and nervousness in the others through their well-meshed fields. Sunstreaker pulled out of his brother and lay down on his side next to him. The shift to bring Mirage over them, supported so the triangle of frames was balanced well enough for their sparks to meet in the middle was a bit awkward, but the twins had practiced, wanting to be ready.

Mirage looked between them, his spark fluttering madly--it _wanted_ this, it had waited _so long_ for this--and pulled in a deep intake to steady himself as his chest plates parted. A sign of absolute trust. He knew they would never hurt him, he knew they needed him to bare himself first, and so he offered up his crystal, a bright, nearly white construction with delicate latticework and the faintest hint of a sky blue, or maybe it was a reflection of the spark behind it, it was hard to tell. His intakes stalled out as the cool outer air flowed into his chest and he stared down at the twins almost anxiously. 

"My spark, my Song, for you," he whispered.

The pair was mesmerized to see the first spark beyond their own that wasn't about to gutter because of them.

"So... so..." Sideswipe's words failed him.

"Yeah," Sunstreaker whispered in awe of the sight that they _still_ hadn't truly believed would be offered.

They didn't even look at each other, only stared at the glimmering life being offered to them as their chest plates parted. It was a slower process, both because of who they were, and the simpler physics of much heavier, more interlocked armor mixed with a position that didn't allow it to slide outward on one side.

Some very careful shifting and then their chests were open to Mirage. The noble had seen them merge before, caught glimpses of their chambers and the light, but to _really_ see it like this ... was stunning. So very different from his own, no doubt influenced by the war-like paranoia of their carrier when they were forming. Away from the light, Mirage could tell they were crystal, but they looked like burnished steel, nearly opaque and matching but for the tint that matched their natural armor color. The pale green-blue sparks pulsed in perfect synchronization and reached out for his as almost mirror images, each wanting to be first even as they understood that once one reached their mate, both halves would be there.

Mirage soothed them with a gentle trill as his iris spiraled open and his spark brushed out, slowly at first, wary of being touched, cautious in a way that only came from the worst of experiences in a creature that had ultimately been created for _this_ purpose. 

Two engines rumbled softly in reply, the warrior's version of Mirage's trill. Reassurance and promises of protection that the twins understood how to give.

One single sky blue tendril brushed forward, splitting to reach out to both chambers, sensing something _good_ and _beloved_ , willing to risk safety and happiness and even _life_ for it. Pale green-blue brushed against it, first from Sideswipe's side, then Sunstreaker's. They were just as afraid, damaged from the abuse of their frames and processors over a long lifetime, yet just as willing to risk for _this_ spark.

Sunstreaker was the first to moan as the tendrils twisted around each other, merging their energy as slowly as the processors they powered needed to comprehend and accept what was happening.

They moved in small steps, gradually coming in to settle into the first stage of a light merge with the noble and each other. For the twins, the shallow contact felt like the lightest brushing kiss next to what they were used to with each other. With Mirage, it was much more. 

~You're...~ Mirage whispered through his spark, tentative but willing. ~You're _here_.~

~So are you,~ Sideswipe felt ... surprised.

~Of course he is,~ Sunstreaker mentally bapped his brother over the helm, but even in this light merge, there was no mistaking the fondness or fierce possessive-protectiveness towards the red mech. ~I like him here.~

~Me too. Not as weird as I thought.~ Sideswipe mumbled, and Mirage got a hint that he was talking through another part of his spark, much further back, that led to his brother.

~I _know_ I am better than 'not as weird,'~ Mirage teased with the affectionate aloofness he was so skilled at. He pushed forward carefully, with a shiver of pleasure at the delightful charged friction it created. 

~ _You_ are wonderful and amazing,~ Sideswipe's chagrin was easy to feel ever with so little contact. ~Was talking about having someone else with us, in here.~

~Ah,~ Mirage said in comprehension. The merge was still shallow enough that he could still see through his optics and he looked between their faces, bright blue sets looking back up at him. His spark opened to them completely, inviting, calm. He _wanted_ them. He wanted to _know_ them, and he would wait as long as he had to. A little to his surprise, it was Sunstreaker who reached deeper first. Though he had more damage to his processor, his spark was as stable as any. In it Mirage was suddenly surrounded by _artist_ , the way Sunstreaker saw not just him, but everything. Even combat was a strange form of art, because that was the core of what this half of the spark was. Like he was in so much else, good and bad, Sunstreaker was relatively simple, founded on just a few things and he molded how he interacted around those cores.

Sideswipe followed his brother, eager until he realized just how exposed he'd be and he pulled back sharply. Though the deepening merge with Sunstreaker, Mirage could feel it all and knew much of it.

~Come on,~ Sunstreaker's tone inside the merge was different. Patient, but not at all calm or undemanding. He _wanted_ and wanted _now_. ~He already knows it all.~

~I've _accepted_ it all,~ Mirage said, and reached out for Sideswipe, but didn't pull or even touch, just lingered with open invitation. He had one half of the spark he was to bond with, he needed the other. ~I know what you are. You're a _survivor_. You're my bonded.~

The push from his twin and the invitation that was the pull from the mech he very much wanted to be part of soon drew Sideswipe fully into the merge where processor thought was filtered through the spark rather than the other way around. Yet both spark and processor felt guilty for what they were. Not so much the remorseless killer part, but what he did to so call allies. Con-mech. One of the best. He was proud that he was that good, just as he was ashamed at what he was good at.

~I'm a mess,~ both sides replied, their voices mingling into a single complex harmony of living two independent lives at once.

~You're _my_ mess,~ Mirage said firmly, caressing them. They hadn't finished their merge, not completely, though they were still closer to each other than they were to him. ~My handsome, powerful, loyal mess. Please,~ he whispered. ~I want to _meet_ you.~

That plea drove something in the pair and they surged forward, enveloping him between one beat and the next. They became one, fully one, three parts of a whole, and yet even this deep Mirage understood that being bonded was even deeper. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were a single entity, but Mirage was still himself.

The presence before him, his mate, his bonded, two united halves of one whole, _felt_ like it was supposed to. ~My love,~ he said in awe, and gave a hard shiver of pleasure-bliss.

The response wasn't in glyphs as Mirage understood them, yet the statement was clear.

_My/our love. Mate. Lover. Pleasure-giver. Trusted. Healer._

~Yes, all of it yes,~ Mirage's spark answered, curling around the light that had claimed him without question. ~Forever yes. Have me, take me, own me, take your solace in me,~ he stroked the aching core that felt like Sunstreaker, though it was hard to tell in here. ~And I will have you, I will keep this spark as my own.~

That, more than anything, caused a huge flare in the twins. Rejected at separation, being _wanted_ on this level was a balm they could not even express, yet they still tried. The unified whole pulsed its joy and fear and relief and emotions they had no designation for but amounted to _home_ as the merge was pressed deeper, blurring the lines between the two-three even more until there was only the one with three frames long forgotten.

Synchronous cries filled them, a pleasure that was far more about the relief in here--relief of a noble with walls around his spark and claws for anyone who tried to breach them, relief of an artist who saw the world with such painful clarity that he sometimes couldn't bear the thought of one more orn in it, relief of a con artist and warrior who fought and tricked because it was easier than being rejected--relief of a single, life-long search for _this_ finally ending, in just the right way. 

The bond came without even being called upon, forging the last missing links in the moments of their overload, as stars became dull in comparison to the sparklight that flooded the room. It filled with screams as ecstatic as the light was brilliant, and in the end, it left three exhausted, collapsed frames curled up together on the berth, the last of the reluctantly parting tendrils finally being tucked away into their chests before they closed in the final stages of shutdown.

None of them had ever recharged more soundly as they did that night, their sparks fulfilled in a way they'd never imagined possible.


	11. A New Generation

As kin, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Mirage had been among the few invited to greet Prowl after his recovery from the separation of his fourth carried creation not a vorn after the triad had bonded. They were sitting in the living room of the small home with Optimus Prime, Smokescreen and Bluestreak, waiting patiently for either Ratchet or Wheeljack--the only medics that were allowed to lay hands on Prowl, under threat of Jazz--to let them in. 

"How fragging long can it take?" Sunstreaker grumbled.

Perhaps not so patiently, Mirage amended silently to himself. "As long as is needed to ensure the health and safety of both carrier and sparkling," he told his bondmate.

Sunstreaker sighed dramatically. "It's been _forever_."

"It's been a groon, you glitch," Sideswipe said, swatting one of his twin's helm fins, and getting a quickly-stifled giggle from Bluestreak. "That's nothing."

Mirage hummed in agreement. "Separation can take up to half an orn, depending on the complexity of the frame and any possible complications that may arise. Prowl is much older than most who carry."

"Almost every mecha who has any memory of before the war is much older than most," Optimus Prime said. "Even the youth of the Autobots are old by former standards."

"He certainly doesn't act like it," Smokescreen commented idly. "He's an entirely different mech when he's carrying."

"He's _dreamy_ ," Bluestreak said with a fond sigh, getting a _look_ from his lover for it. "What? He is! He's been all soft and happy and like there never was anything better than carrying it must be so nice for them to finally get to do this."

"They've done it before," Sideswipe said dryly.

"They have created before," Optimus Prime cut in, before Bluestreak could get started. "They have never had the luxury of creating without fearing for their lives, so I imagine the experience is somewhat different."

"They didn't get to choose last time either," Sideswipe said quietly.

"A match for the first three times Prowl carried," Smokescreen shrugged. "A love-match or non-political reason to kindle was pretty rare back then."

"I just can't wait to meet the sparkling," Mirage said with a trill, hoping to steer the conversation away from darker memories. "Do _any_ of you know its designation?"

"They haven't told us, either," Smokescreen said while Optimus shook his head.

"Not even you?" Smokescreen looked at Optimus in surprise. "You still share their berth. Or is it they share yours?"

Optimus rubbed a hand over his battle mask in that way that always indicated a smile. "Technically speaking, they share mine, as it is the only one large enough for all three of us. I have been looking forward to the separation, sires can be very single-minded in their pursuits and Jazz has been extraordinarily devoted to his duties." 

A beat of silence. 

"Ah, gross, Prime," Smokescreen complained. 

" _I_ think it's romantic," Bluestreak said.

"It is not like we have not witnessed their intense affection before," Mirage pointed out smoothly with a bit of humor. "I, for one, am looking forward to when it is my turn to be of such a focus."

Sunstreaker stiffened, looking a little panicked, but Sideswipe shot their mate a roguish grin. "Are you now," he purred. 

"Very much so," Mirage trilled softly, seductively, every molecule trying to make himself even more desirable to fill with a new life now that his desire was half approved of.

Optimus gave the triad an indulgent smile, but focused mostly on Smokescreen and Bluestreak. The younger Praxian looked positively dreamy, and Smokescreen's expression had gone strangely blank. The Prime made a note of that curiosity, then lifted his head when movement from the hall that led to the berthroom where Prowl had wanted to have the separation. Ratchet appeared. 

"You can all come in now," the medic said, his voice warmer than any of them had ever heard it. "But you will all _behave_ ," he warned in a more characteristic growl. "Prowl is recovering."

"How is Jazz?" Mirage asked as they all stood. Bluestreak moved first, with Mirage not far behind. Despite his inclination towards being last, Optimus found himself in the middle when the couple's adult creations lingered a bit to come to terms with many things.

Ratchet snickered at Mirage's question. "About as drained as Prowl. I was more worried about him than the other two."

"Why?" Bluestreak asked. "The sire doesn't have the _work_ to do...."

"Jazz has never been a sire before," Ratchet said, still with that smirk on his face. "The worrying that first-timers do is almost more exhausting than the actual separation." He stopped at the closed door and drummed on it lightly with his fingers in announcement. 

::Come in.:: Prowl commed back openly. ::Jazz and the sparkling are in recharge.::

Bluestreak was the first to wedge his way in after Ratchet opened the door, beating Mirage out only on account of the former noble's manners.

Optimus had to duck to enter, straightening once he was fully in and taking in the scene of Prowl's expanded frame resting on the berth, with Jazz cuddled up with his head on his mate's shoulder, a naked protoform curled in the crook of his arm, recharging on its carrier's chest. Wheeljack was set up near the berth, taking readings of the protoform with an external scanner, but stepped back with a warm glow as soon as the crowd entered. 

The three adult creations came in last, lingering in the back of the room while everyone else crowded forward, cooing over the tiny, naked protoform.

"That's a sparkling?" Bluestreak asked, his doorwings quivering and flicking madly in excitement.

"It is perfectly formed," Mirage added with a welcoming trill.

"Thank you," Prowl responded to Mirage before focusing on the second youngest mech in the room. "Yes, this is a sparkling, a perfectly normal, healthy one that was carried."

"It's all ... tiny," Sunstreaker said, taking a hesitant step forward. 

"It was _inside_ me," Prowl chuckled. "Even with the extra space, a frame can only be constructed so large."

"What is its designation?" Optimus asked politely, trying to stifle his laughter at the way Bluestreak was edging closer, looking like refraining from begging to hold the sparkling was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

"Luminous," Prowl answered warmly, then shifted his gaze to Bluestreak and gently shifted the tiny being from his chest to his hands. "Be careful. He is very delicate."

"Luminous," Optimus repeated in a low, thoughtful murmur, as Bluestreak squeaked a little and held his arms out to accept the tiny bundle. 

"Oh, oh _wow_ he's so little," the young Praxian said, optics widening in bright amazement. "What is separation like? Does it hurt? I've never actually seen a new sparkling before, just younglings 'cause they all had to stay inside. When do the doorwings and chevron start to grow?"

Prowl laughed lightly at his charge's excitement. "There is some discomfort, but rarely pain. It is a very long, slow transformation sequence. _If_ they develop, we will see the first hints of a chevron in his next upgrade, and doorwing nubs in the first youngling upgrade."

"Why 'if?'" Smokescreen asked, finally coming close enough to slide a hand onto Bluestreak's back, looking over his shoulder at the recharging sparkling. "You are full Praxian, surely Jazz can't have had _that_ much influence."

"And he's got a Praxian build now," Bluestreak added, cooing and trilling at the sparkling.

The twins snickered in unison, also circling around Bluestreak so they could get a better look. Optimus stepped back to make more room, moving to settle near the berth, reaching down to rub his thumb affectionately over Prowl's chevron. The tired carrier hummed in platonic pleasure and relaxed even as he reached for his creation as Luminous stirred. "He tried very hard," he chuckled softly with an indulgent look for his mate. "It is quite likely that he will have a Praxian frame, or close to one."

"Quite likely?" Smokescreen raised an optic ridge at the lack of precision in that statement. "You turned more than the tac-net off."

"Yes, all of it's off," Prowl murmured, smiling warmly as his creation settled on his chest once more. "Luminous deserves my unimpeded emotional state."

"I am sure Jazz enjoyed that as well," Mirage said warmly as he leaned back against Sideswipe, who held him and nuzzled his helm, engines rumbling deeply. 

"How are you?" Optimus asked. 

"Ready to follow my family into recharge," Prowl said honestly. "There will be plenty of time for visiting later."

"True," Mirage sighed, gazing longingly at the sparkling and very obviously not wanting to go, but doing a better job of hiding his disappointment that the droop-winged Bluestreak. 

Optimus leaned down to press a chaste kiss to Prowl's helm. "Thank you for letting us visit," he said, before giving his friend a careful squeeze on the shoulder as he straightened. "I am certain you will not want for company. I am going to organize a guard rotation for your home, to be on the safe side."

"Thank you," Prowl murmured as his optics powered down. "Family's always welcome," he added just before powering down the rest of the way.

"Come on," Sunstreaker caught Mirage's shoulder and urged him out. "We'll distract you from not getting to play mommy."

Mirage sighed again and left before Prime and Ratchet had to start herding mecha out, walking between his mates as they began heading home. "Oh, I _want_ one," he lamented.

"When we're sure the war won't start up again before it's grown," Sideswipe promised, ignoring his brother's irate look. "Not going to risk it before."

"But..." Mirage said, giving his mate the brightest, most disappointed optics he could manage. "But Jazz and Prowl have one!"

"And when was the last time _they_ made a good personal choice?" Sunstreaker backed his brother. Anything to delay the inevitable.

Mirage turned the full force of his very practiced and honed pout on the younger twin. "Just _one_..."

A slightly strangled whimper escaped Sunstreaker and _distress_ flared in the bond.

~We're really not ready,~ Sideswipe said quietly over the bond, sinking into the intimacy to express his honesty. ~We know you are. We know you want one. We aren't ready to be responsible for something _that_ helpless.~

Mirage whined softly and fought back the very physical _quiver_ of want in his frame. He wanted so much it _hurt_ and he knew the twins could feel it. He also knew they were right and that waiting was the better choice. 

It didn't really help. But he sighed, pushed back at the sharp longing that had been tickling at him since the night they'd bonded, and leaned closer to Sunstreaker. "You said something about making me forget I can't have one," he grumbled.

"Yeah," the yellow warrior latched onto the subject eagerly and all but pushed Mirage forward so they could get to their quarters. "Oh yeah, we'll make you forget."

"Everything but our designations," Sideswipe added with an eager purr. "You'll be screaming those until you black out."

* * *

Mirage felt himself relax as he drove into Praxus, or what would one orn become the City of Praxus, sixty vorns after his bonding. Right now it was little more than half a dozen short towers, three of which were for businesses or government offices. Of the three residential towers the largest was for visitors and non-resident construction crews and the other two were for the Praxians and those who would be residents when the city was rebuilt, and the Seekers who were paying their debt for the war-damage by rebuilding the city that had once been their cousin. It was hoped that in the process the rift between Praxian and Seekers could be healed, at least in part, and similar plans for Vos were well underway. 

Far more apparent than the buildings was the centerpiece that would become the new Helix Garden in a few centuries, after the crystals being planted and nurtured now had a chance to grow enough to be a worthy display. At the moment it was little more than a large flat area, meticulously clean with paths and benches in strange arrangements if one didn't know why they were winding around the empty spaces. It was there that Mirage led his mates. They were here to visit family, and having commed ahead, Mirage knew the orn was to work on the garden with all three of the sparklings he was proud to call cousin. The party to celebrate Luminous's youngling upgrades would be in the evening.

Jazz waved in greeting as soon as they were in visual range. That alerted the three young Praxians and Mirage stifled a giggle when he saw Prowl immediately lunge for his own to keep him from dashing off headfirst towards them without looking. From the stories, this creation had no more sense of risk assessment than Sideswipe had at that age. Not that Bluestreak's little one, only three vorns from his youngling upgrades, was much better, but he was also far more distractible when he hadn't target locked yet. Bluestreak was a master of distracting his creation from running headlong into traffic and did so with an ease that looked more like hardcoded control than the gentle words and motions it really was.

Mirage had no doubt that Elpida, a term for hope in some ancient Terran language, was also easily controlled because he adored his creator and willingly went along with it.

The most reserved of the lot Mirage swore took after himself more than either of his creators. Smokescreen's creation, like Elpida, had been sired by Optimus Prime and contributed to by several surviving Praxians, and possibly a few non-Praxians. The diversionary tactician turned cultural ambassador and negotiator wasn't saying and social law forbade asking. 

Mirage and the twins pulled up and transformed into root mode, and only then did Prowl let go of Luminous so the youngling could dash over, spinning as he did and beaming up at his cousin. 

"'Raj look, upgrades!"

"You look good in them," Mirage praised honestly, though he would have said it no matter what. The youth's black and red trimming was beginning to show clearly, as was the prominent chevron shield and armored nubs that would one orn be proper doorwings. The rest of his frame had stayed determinedly light, a color that was vividly bright to look at but not a clean white like his carrier, instead closer to a very pale, reflective silver that no one was willing to ask where it came from.

Mirage greeted Jazz with a hug as Luminos fidgeted impatiently, waiting for all of the adults to finish with their exchanges, then reached up and tugged on Sunstreaker's hand. The yellow twin looked down at his youngest brother, offering a smile, and knelt. "What's up, little mech?"

"We're planting crystals," Luminous told him seriously.

"A good way to spend the orn?" Sideswipe asked, curious as to the youngling's take on it.

"It's kind of boring," Luminous said with a one-armed shrug, causing the twins to snicker. "But carrier says it's important." He looked over his shoulder at Prowl. "Right?"

"Yes, rebuilding the gardens is important," Prowl nodded seriously.

"They were the very core of Praxus, what made the city unique," Jazz agreed, slipping an arm around Prowl's waist, and cocked his head at Luminous as the oldest of the mecha present leaned into the contact with shuttered optics and a very quiet sound of pure pleasure. "I thought you were excited about working on the gardens." 

Luminous scuffed at the ground. "Yeah 'cause I thought that it would be _exciting_. Nothing's _happened_."

"It takes time," a new voice said, tiny and impossibly haughty. Luminous made a face at Pacer and was promptly tweaked on his chevron by his sire. 

"The crystals take time to grow. They will not be suitable to call a garden before we are adults with adult creations of our own," the sparkling continued, lifting his chin up in an amazing mimic of Smokescreen explaining something to someone who he considered too slow to be bothered with. It wasn't a trait many had seen the gambler and socialite of a mecha do. "The chemical reaction is not instantaneous unless provided precise environmental triggers."

Luminous mocked Pacer silently for a few moments until his sire tapped his aft with one pede, just hard enough to push him forward a little. He sighed. 

Mirage reached over the two youngsters to clasp Bluestreak's hand in greeting, smiled at the well-developed sparkling in the former sniper's arms. "Hello, how have you been?"

"Happy, full and in good repair," the youngest of the mecha replied solemnly in a painful reminder of how so many adults responded, memories of far too long where any one of those, much less all three, were in very short supply. Though his status as the youngest was only by a few orns, Luminous rarely let Elpida forget and Elpida couldn't be bothered to care. As far as Elpida was concerned, they were the same age.

"I am glad to hear it," Mirage said, then shifted his attention back to Bluestreak. "Where's Smokescreen, work?" 

"Oh, yeah, he's been so busy lately, just got back from an off-world visit," Bluestreak said. "And today he has a meeting about interstellar relations that he's attending by holocom right now but don't worry he'll be at the party later but he might be a little late." 

Luminous perked at the mention of his party again and squirmed a little. "How soon?" he asked Prowl.

"When we are finished here," the Governor of Praxus said calmly.

"We're close to being done," Bluestreak said with a smile for the youngling as his own creation nuzzled against his neck. He started back towards the site they'd been working on.

Luminous watched for a moment, then tugged on Prowl's leg and held his arms up in a silent request to be lifted. It was granted with a soft smile on the normally stern features and Prowl nuzzled his creation and for a moment millennia and a long, painful existence fell away as if it had never happened. The Governor of Praxus, SIC of the Autobots, Chief Tactician of the Autobots, crafter of much of the Great War and feared sociopath of Kaon's streets was, for a tender moment, just a creator with his creation.

Luminous purred and wrapped his arms around Prowl's neck and nuzzled back, completely unaware of the wonder that the moment brought to the others watching. This was the only way he'd ever known his carrier, and for all he knew, this was the only way he'd ever been. 

Mirage gave a longing sigh that was answered by understanding brushes from the twins as the group headed over to the site together, and he found himself spending most of the time just watching Prowl help Luminous with the very precise work of painting the supersaturated, mineral-rich gel that would one orn provide the base of the crystals that had once stood here. Luminous, despite his declaration that the work was boring, listened to his carrier with bright, rapt, focused attention. 

"It would go much faster if Prowl were to just do it himself," Sideswipe remarked to Jazz as his carrier came over. 

"Sure it would," Jazz said, carefully settling down. "He'd rather Luminous be prepared to care for the gardens in the long term, though." Unspoken was the knowledge that Prowl was old, by any standards, and how much longer his spark would stay in his frame became a more serious question every vorn.

"It's family time," Sunstreaker suddenly said as comprehension dawned on him. "Like the zoo."

Sideswipe glanced at his brother, then at Prowl and his youngling creation, a creation that was the same age they'd been when they'd last seen Prowl before they were all Autobots and hardened by life. Yes, he could see that. The zoo was always a place they'd enjoyed going, but Prowl went for no reason other than to spend time with them.

~I think he enjoyed it, seeing us learn.~ Sunstreaker added.

~I know he did,~ Mirage said warmly, leaning against his mate and watching the two carriers interact with the young mecha. ~He's such a natural.~

~I never really see Jazz interact with Luminous much,~ Sideswipe said with a slight frown. ~I wonder if his creator protocols got too fragged.~

~I believe he is more concerned about how you will take it,~ Mirage countered softly. ~He is cooler towards me as well when you are present.~

~He is?~ the twins asked in surprised unison, and Mirage hummed in affirmative before quickly switching his focus back to the pair of sparklings that were playing with Bluestreak. The youngest of the Praxian adults was effortlessly turning the work into a game. Something happier to focus on. 

~Promise me, someday,~ Mirage said longingly.

The twins traded a look. ~When they're grown, if it's still stable?~ Sideswipe asked his brother, completely forgetting that Mirage could hear it now, even if their sibling talk was difficult for him to understand because of its speed and mental shorthand.

~I'm never going to be ready. They're so small, so ... so....~

~Vulnerable, squishy, easily broken.~ Sideswipe supplied along with a feeling of understanding all too well. ~I know, but we'll manage. We haven't hurt any of the sparklings we've been around. Not even come close.~

~They haven't _lived_ with us.~ Sunstreaker pointed out. ~But I want him happy.~

~I know,~ Sideswipe pushed understanding and confidence over the bond. ~We will make it work. Ratchet's sworn six ways to Sunday that our sparkling and creator protocols are all fully intact and with the right priorities. You haven't glitched since well before the war ended.~

~It will be nice to have that longing settle,~ Sunstreaker admitted.

~Yes, someday,~ Sideswipe switched his focus to speaking to Mirage. ~When they're adults, if politics are still stable, we'll fill you with new life.~

Mirage purred and his field flushed so brightly that Jazz looked over with a raised optic ridge. "Something good just got decided upon," he teased. "Will we have more little pedefalls soon?" 

"Not soon enough," Mirage sighed. "But eventually." 

"Just you two wait until you see the glow that a carrying second creation gets," Jazz told the twins. "You won't be disappointed."

"That's not that part Sunshine is worried about," Sideswipe chuckled at the growl he earned from his other half. "But yeah, your next creation will have a Mirage-carried cousin to play with."

Mirage trilled and nuzzled against his red mate, looking for all the world like he was getting ready to seduce them into filling him right there when Sunstreaker slid against Mirage's back. Jazz cleared out his vocalizer, giving them a look. 

"Please, we're _cuddling_ ," Sunstreaker rumbled. "Like Luminous hasn't caught you and Prowl doing worse." 

"A dozen times or more every vorn," Jazz said with a smirk. "I'm just worried that you're going to lean back off the path," he nodded towards the small barrier with microscopic crystals growing behind it.

"We can't have that," Mirage managed an utterly haughty impression of himself at his worst, which was enough to make Sideswipe snicker even as Sunstreaker captured a kiss to shut the noble up.

"We'll behave," Sideswipe promised.

"You had better," Prowl's deep rumble held both humor and dire warning if they didn't. "Those crystals are irreplaceable at this point."

"Yeah yeah," Sideswipe said, and settled for simply holding Mirage against him and watching the youngling and sparklings work, as he and his twin tried to wrap their processors around having one of their own. The purring and intense pulses of joy-pleasure-gratitude over the bond made it easier, or at least easier to trust that everyone else was right and they would manage, even if they didn't know how.

* * *

The party later on was as much an excuse for the adults of the family to have a reason to get together for the first time in a few vorns as it was to celebrate Luminous's youngling upgrades. Work kept all of them busy around the planet--even Mirage was officially here on assignment--and they missed the metacycles spent on Earth and getting to see each other all the time. 

There was flavored low-grade for the three youngest, high grade for the adults who desired any, confections and jellies for everyone, and the first part of the evening was spent sitting around and socializing while the youngsters played. 

When they finally got bored with the games at their disposal, they came to pester the adults for entertainment, and more importantly, presents. As the visitors, and therefore the ones who had gotten them things that they had no clue about, Mirage and the twins were pounced on first.

Mirage indulgently pulled a gift from his subspace and handed it over to the excited youngling, who immediately looked at the twins for theirs. They raised optic ridges back at him and after a moment, he drooped. "Just one?" 

" _Luminous_." Prowl's reprimand held a sharper tone than most expected, and was backed by a growl from his engine. It was enough to made the youngling cringe.

"Why don't you open it first and see what it is before you complain about the quantity," Jazz suggested from where he was sitting with Prowl reclining back against him, but he did not try to lessen the impact of Prowl's displeasure.

Luminous recovered with a low, indistinct sound but sat down to give the box a closer look. It was metal on the outside, smooth surfaces with glyphs and movable parts inlaid in them. There was no obvious latch and he scowled upon realizing that. 

"It's a puzzle," Mirage told him. "You have to figure it out before you get the gift." 

Luminous brightened immediately and quickly set to work trying to work out what he needed to do to get the box open. 

"You were right," Mirage told the twins with a smile.

"He _is_ Prowl's creation," Sideswipe gave a smirk. 

"Though with our manners," Sunstreaker snickered.

"You had better manners than that at his age," Prowl grumbled.

"At least when you were around," Jazz told him with a fond nuzzle, hands going along his mate's doorwings in an attempt to soothe. "I'm sure they were little monsters plenty of the time you weren't."

"Still are little monsters," Mirage snickered, and then gave a squeaking giggle as two sets of hands grabbed him from either side and tried to get under his armor to tickle. 

On the floor in the middle of the adults Luminous was oblivious as he worked, while Elpida and Pacer both peered curiously around him at the pieces he was shifting around. It took the youngling the better part of a breem, an eternity to one so young, to open the box and pull out a simple control cube and a dozen bars of various lengths.

"What is it?" he asked with a curious trill. 

"A miniature contained environment for cyber-ants," Mirage said. "Wheeljack adapted it from an old Terran game, but this one is _much_ better." 

"You can breed for specific colors and traits, and there are five different species to work with. Two competing predator species and three others with different defense mechanisms," Sunstreaker said with a fond rumble for his younger brother. 

"What is the goal?" Luminous asked slowly, carefully, as he investigated the pieces. 

"You set your own goal," Sideswipe said, and everyone smiled at the way the youngling brightened. 

"Thank you," he said, grinning hugely at the triad, then after a quick glance at his carrier, added, "I'm sorry for being greedy."

Prowl gave a quiet chirp of approval as Sideswipe grinned and reached out to playfully tweak the chevron shield. "Forgiven. Now every time we visit you can show us how your project is going."

"I will!" Luminous said, then looked hesitantly at Bluestreak, very obviously trying to seem casual about it so as to not incur Prowl's displeasure. 

Bluestreak chuckled in understanding and opened his arms for Luminous and pulled the youngling into his lap as he produced another box. "Don't worry, I'll spoil you rotten when your carrier isn't watching," he said in a loud whisper, and stuck his glossa playfully out at Prowl over Luminous's head. 

"I'll help," Smokescreen said to announce his arrival as he crossed over to sit next to his mate, greeting the younger Praxian with a kiss and then sweeping his own creation up in his arms. "Sparklings should be spoiled."

Prowl made a long-suffering sound that had no actual force behind it. " _Someone_ has to enforce some discipline and it's always been my duty."

"That just means it's _our_ duty to spoil them," Smokescreen told his carrier with a charismatic grin as he ran his hands automatically over Pacer's frame, checking the sparkling for safety and good health. No one stopped him or tried to remind him that the sparkling had been diligently supervised all orn; some habits were too hard to break. And Pacer didn't mind, but instead purred happily as he squirmed into his carrier's lap.

Luminous's delighted gasp drew attention back to him and Elpida peeked curiously up over his carrier's lap.

"What is that?" Pacer looked at the engraved and etched sheet of well-polished metal the size of an adult's hand.

Luminous grinned up at him and squirmed in excitement as he squealed. "It's a ticket for the art gallery in Iacon!"

"I'm glad you're looking forward to it," Bluestreak smiled warmly, his doorwings lifting in relief and joy that his gift, something he'd thought for vorns about, was so well accepted.

"That is going to be _so_ cool. Is everyone coming?" He focused on Bluestreak, who twitched his doorwings in a negative.

"It's just for you and me," the gray and red Praxian smiled warmly. "I cleared it with your creators before I wrote that."

"Awesome, thank you," Luminous said with a huge grin and twisted to spread his arms across Bluestreak's chest in the best hug he could manage for his size, then jumped down off his lap and went right for Prowl, crawling happily into his carrier's arms. Elpida immediately replaced him on Bluestreak's lap.

Prowl smiled warmly and embraced his youngest creation. For the twins it brought back partially corrupted but still cherished memories of the orns when they'd been with their sire and he'd acted much the same with them.

Jazz cleared his vocalizer and slipped a long, shallow wooden box into the youngling's hands. It had Luminous's immediate attention and he quickly found the latch to slide the lid off, revealing more than a dozen small compartments inside, each with a different colored powder or small shards. 

"Oh, I know what this is!" he said, and quivered in his excitement. 

"What?" Pacer and Elpida chirped in unison. 

"Flavors--like the kinds that sire and carrier put in energon," Luminous said, and tilted the box slightly for them to see. "Can I add them myself?" he asked eagerly, looking up at Prowl.

"Yes," Prowl nodded with a flick of his doorwings. "We selected those and the amounts so you cannot damage yourself with them."

"You can try mixing them for different flavors, too," Jazz added, smiling at his creation's immediate perking at the idea of getting to customize and experiment with only his own creativity as his limit. 

Smokescreen leaned across Bluestreak, offering another present to the youngling. "Here, this is also for you," he said. "In the spirit of spoiling younglings." 

Luminous opened it to find temporary decals that matched his trimming perfectly. "Oh, cool!" he said, and grinned at his brother. "Thank you!" 

"Yeah, welcome," Smokescreen grinned back. 

Luminous jumped down off Prowl's lap and dragged his cousins with him to try out all the gifts, leaving the adults in peaceful silence again. Conversation turned to work, then the low murmurs of political tension, to hope for the future, and back again. 

Mirage's permanent public assignment was traveling the planet to assess the political spheres of all the developing colonies. His real assignment was to find everything that wasn't being officially reported, whether it was for good or bad. Terrorist cells were a very real threat in a world that could be thrown back into chaos with one well-placed bomb. Rumors had been spreading throughout the workers of Praxus, whispers of a possible plot against Prowl's life. No one was worried, but it had to be investigated. 

Eventually, Prowl heard a quiet shuffling and looked over to see the three youngest mecha listening from beyond the doorway. Jazz followed his gaze and Mirage and the twins twisted around to look. 

"How long have you been there?" Jazz asked quietly. 

They crept forward. "Not very long," Luminous said, looking concerned.

"It is not serious trouble brewing," Prowl assured them as he stood to gather Luminous in his arms. "All of us, but especially Mirage, Jazz and I, were very involved in planning what happened during the war. We are determined not to have it happen again, and that means paying attention to those who are unhappy."

"But it sounded scary," Elpida said as he was immediately scooped up and nestled into Bluestreak's arms as Smokescreen lifted Pacer. Mirage and the twins watched quietly, letting the creators tend to their worried creations. 

"And what if the bad mecha _are_ hiding and you don't find them?" Luminous said, burying his face against Prowl's neck. "You said they want to get you and sometimes sire isn't here and I'm not here so what if they get here then?" 

"I survived the war, little one," Prowl reminded him gently. "I survived worse than the war. I will survive a few disgruntled mecha without weapons."

Luminous nodded, still unhappy but gradually settling under Prowl's steady stroking down his neck and back. "'Kay," he finally said, optics starting to dim. 

"Think it's time for recharge," Jazz said with a soft smile and Luminous nodded drowsily. 

"Can you tell me a story tonight?" the youngling asked. 

"Always," Jazz said, leaning in to nuzzle him. "What kind would you like?" 

"A Radiance story?" Luminous asked.

Prowl and Jazz both smiled warmly at remembering their mate before Prowl set Luminous down. "We'll see everyone out, then settle you in with a story."

Bluestreak and Smokescreen left quickly with their own tired sparklings, promising to be by soon, leaving Mirage and the twins alone. 

Jazz hugged Mirage tightly. "You be careful, yeah?" he said. "I don't like not being your boss when you're still on assignment." 

"I'm always careful," Mirage promised him, as Prowl nodded in farewell to the twins. 

"You just keep doing that, then," Jazz said before letting go and stepping back to scoop up the fading Luminous. "Thanks for coming." 

"Yeah, anytime," Sideswipe said with a grin as Sunstreaker rumbled in agreement. He looked at the youngling. "Happy upgrades, Luminous." 

Luminous managed to focus on him and nodded, waving once before his head fell back onto Jazz's chest. 

Jazz chuckled and after another round of goodbyes and well-wishes, Mirage was leading his twins back the way they'd come to find their berths for the night before the work began tomorrow.

* * *

"Hey there, kid," Sunstreaker rumbled in welcome as he accepted the request ping at the front door and stood up to greet Luminous. "All right, let's get a look at you." 

Luminous had been in his mechling frame for three metacycles and he all too happily held his arms out and turned for Sunstreaker to see. The artist scanned every surface as he showed off for another klik, then nodded his approval. "Your finish looks good," he said. 

"Thanks," Luminous grinned. "And thanks for letting me stay for a bit. Are Sides and 'Raj here?" 

Sunstreaker hummed in negative as they made their way to the living room. "Still at work. Sideswipe's going to pick up your rations on his way home, but if you're low now you can take one of theirs." 

"I'm good," Luminous said. "Carrier was worried that the request would get locked up in the system so I have some extra anyway."

"For a mech that _is_ the system, he sure doesn't trust it much," Sunstreaker shook his helm. "So what is the news from Praxus?"

" _What_ news from Praxus," Luminous said with a roll of his optics. "It's _Praxus._ Nothing happens there except a crystal grew a bit faster this metacycle or three more mecha applied for citizenship. I am _so_ ready to be in a real city for a while. And Carrier only trusts systems that he has control over," he added with a grin.

"That is Prowl for you," Sunstreaker nodded.

Luminous hummed in agreement and flopped down onto one of the extra-long lounges that was designed to hold two frontliners and their mate. "Ah, freedom," he said, stretching out with a cheerful trill. 

Sunstreaker chuckled softly. "Glad to get away from your creators?" 

"Frag yes," Luminous said, then glanced quickly at Sunstreaker. "Er, I mean, yes." 

"I don't care if you swear," Sunstreaker told him, and instantly got a grin that reminded him painfully of Sideswipe. He had to forcefully push aside the bitterness that it created. It wasn't Luminous's fault that he and his twin had lived the life they had. It wasn't even Prowl's fault.

"Then frag yes," the mechling continued. "Don't get me wrong I love my creators but they're hyper-protective and they know _everyone_ in Praxus and everyone is afraid of Carrier and so they won't really come near me. And these _upgrades_ are just so... so..." He waved his hand in the air and looked back at his next-oldest brother. "You know?"

"Very well," Sunstreaker chuckled with a grin. "And you don't have a brother to explore them with, poor thing. I'm sure mine will be happy to take you out clubbing to find a suitable plaything or two tonight."

"Yes!" Luminous said triumphantly. "Society! Society where no one looks at me and sees my creators!" He looked immensely more excited about life in general now. "Oh hey, before I forget, I want to get them something while I'm here. How long does it take you to do a whole painting?"

Sunstreaker cycled his optics in surprise and stared for a moment, completely broadsided by the question. "Umm, it depends on how large and complicated. A small, simple one takes a couple orns," he motioned with his hands to frame a square half the size of his chest plate. "The large ones that Optimus likes to commission for the gallery can take several vorns."

"Uh, wow," Luminous said. "Umm ... okay, well, not one _that_ big, maybe like this big?" He held his hands out to demonstrate. "Of my creators and Radiance, full frame portrait. I have references for Radiance too, seen enough of him from their memories."

"A centerpiece for their living room?" Sunstreaker thought about the size and subject. "Probably a metacycle. Do you have any references for their frames back then, or should I use their current ones?"

"Current ones," Luminous said firmly. "They aren't that different except paint and a few frame changes, but yeah, current ones. I don't think it would be, um, healthy? For Sire, at least, to have one with the frames from back then."

"Maybe not," Sunstreaker shrugged as he rummaged around for a sketchpad. "But it's the frames they had with him. The purpose of the image could be a memorial to that life, or a fantasy of what it might be now. Healthy applied to _anyone_ in this family is a very questionable term."

"Oh ... yeah that's a good point," Luminous said, frowning. "Scrap, I don't know. Do you think old ones would be better? Yeah, maybe old ones."

"Depends on what you're trying for," Sunstreaker repeated with unusual patience. "Why do you want a picture of the three of them?"

"They talk about him a lot," Luminous said. "Like with places they want to rebuild. A lot about the gardens. I thought they would like having something, since almost everything else is destroyed and there aren't any pictures of him, or of all three. It's a gift," he clarified. "I just want them to have something where he's smiling without having to remember _all_ of it."

Sunstreaker nodded and regarded the mechling. "I know you can't come close to affording my usual rates, but you're family. What have you saved for this?"

"Oh!" Luminous said, and started to rummage in his subspace. "Right, sorry, I was gonna get to that part first, sorry." He pulled out a credit stick and handed it over. "Whatever I can get for that, I've been saving for a while. And it's most of the credits they gave me for this trip, too. I can save more if it isn't enough." He looked at Sunstreaker hopefully.

Sunstreaker gave it a quick check and nodded. It was less than a quarter of his usual rate for what had been described, an eighth for what he intended to produce, but he'd be reformatted before he turned down _this_ commission. This was for kin, his little brother, and for all the best reasons. He wasn't about to be the one to teach Luminous that mecha could be real afts. "Is there a deadline?"

"Nope," Luminous said, shaking his head quickly, and jumped over to give Sunstreaker a hug. The yellow mech returned it with a fond rumble and then Luminous was back to flopping down on the lounge. "So when will Sideswipe get back?" he asked eagerly, unable to hide just how excited he was at the idea of spending an evening out in the biggest city on the planet.

"Soon," Sunstreaker promised him with a chuckle. "Don't worry, he's already planning where to take you, he'll make sure you have fun." 

"You mechs are the best," Luminous told him with a huge grin as he settled in to wait as patiently as he could.

* * *

Mirage walked past the room that Sunstreaker had converted into his art studio, paused as soon as he was past it, backtracked, and peered in, looking closer at the painting he could see over his mate's shoulder. Announcing his presence with a trill so Sunstreaker wouldn't startle on him, he went over to get a better view, rubbing the painter's helm fins as soon as he was close enough in greeting. A rumbling purr was his immediate response. "Is that Jazz?" he asked curiously. 

"Mm." Sunstreaker reluctantly forced his attention away from the slender hands to look at his work, and frowned at it. "It's supposed to be." 

"Different build?" 

"Pre-war build," Sunstreaker said. 

Mirage's optics brightened a little. "So that's Prowl, when he was an Enforcer," he said, pointing at the sketchier figure on the left, and then looked at the more complete one in the middle, one he didn't recognize at all. "And that must be..." 

"Radiance," Sunstreaker affirmed. 

Mirage looked for another moment, then leaned down to brush his lips over one of the fins. "What prompted that muse?" 

"A commission," Sunstreaker said seriously. "Luminous wants it as a gift for Prowl and Jazz." 

"That's sweet," came Sideswipe's voice from the entryway. "He's a good kid." 

"Yeah he is," Sunstreaker said with a shiver when denta scraped lightly over his sensors. He set his brushes down and turned quickly in his chair to grab Mirage and pull him into his lap. "Stop that," he ordered with a playful growl. 

"I will not," Mirage said haughtily.

"He's getting all jacked up because it's almost time for him to have one," Sideswipe chuckled as he stepped in to pin Mirage between them and nuzzled the noble's neck.

Mirage gave a delighted purr of agreement as he squirmed invitingly between them. "If you ever get impatient of waiting, just let me know," he said. 

"You remind us every decaorn," Sunstreaker said, and the faint beginning of anxiety started to trickle over their bond. Not for the idea of a creation, but for the more immediate problem of being interrupted halfway in the middle of a session. "Need to finish," he said with a soft whine from his engine.

Sideswipe grinned and pulled Mirage away. "I'll entertain him until you finish the session."

Sunstreaker glared at his twin. "You're evil," he growled when Sideswipe's grin only got wider and he began sending over his intentions of exactly _how_ he planned to keep their demanding mate entertained. 

"Just be glad I'm not going to take him right here," the red mech said, before hefting the completely willing noble into his arms. Mirage draped his arms around Sideswipe's neck and wrapped his legs around his waist, holding on as his lover carried him away to let Sunstreaker work in relative peace.

* * *

"He'll be home soon," Sideswipe said, watching his anxious, pacing twin. They had returned from Praxus and Luminous's celebration for his adult upgrades almost a decaorn previously while Mirage had stayed behind for his vornly assessment of Praxus, and now were waiting for their mate to return. "He's going to want to talk." They could both _feel_ the pulsing excitement coming across the bond.

"More than _talk_ ," Sunstreaker twitched. "He's going to want to _do it_ , right now."

"He'll settle into discussing it if we ask," Sideswipe said. "He won't _like_ it but he will. I just..." He dry-washed his face. "I don't know. What if we have this sparkling and something awful happens to it?"

~I _know_ ,~ Sunstreaker switched over to the bond, carefully trying to shield it from Mirage. The noble could easily listen in if he wanted, neither twin were that good at blocking the bond, but he always respected the clumsy effort when they wanted a little privacy. ~Oh Primus, I _know_. But we promised, and it's just fear. Delaying won't help anymore. Our creator code is clean. Sparkling protection protocols are intact an engage correctly. Our glitch isn't anything like what triggered Jazz. I haven't glitched since the war ended.~

Sideswipe nodded, arms crossed over his chest and looking out the window, down the road that Mirage would be driving up to come home. ~What if ... what if when he's home we don't say anything, we just take him to berth and...~ A flash of images, uncertain ideas of what it would feel like, _be_ like. ~He waited this long for us. He could have _made_ us if he wanted to and he didn't.~

~He's a good mech. More than we deserve,~ Sunstreaker agreed, leaning against his red half. ~I like the idea of not talking. He'll _know_ what we intend. He knows we agreed and aren't backing out. He's good at guiding without triggering us.~

~Yeah,~ Sideswipe sighed, quiet and wanting and still amazed by the spark they'd accepted into their life. He drew Sunstreaker close and they melted easily into the familiar embrace, supporting each other and taking comfort. ~Dunno, maybe it'll be fun to have a little version of us around. Protocols guarantee we'll _like_ it, at least.~

~It's going to be a _big_ part Raj,~ Sunstreaker rumbled as he tipped his brother's face up for a kiss. ~How can we not _love_ something that will make him so happy?~

Sideswipe melted into the kiss, mirror-image lips meeting and caressing, glossas slipping together as it went on, longer and slower than their norm, something they rarely took the time to do anymore. It was calming and the split spark soothed as the soft, careful moments passed. A flicker of a thought--whose thought?--why didn't they stop to do this more, just _this_. 

~I love you,~ Sideswipe whispered from his spark.

~Love you too,~ Sunstreaker agreed with the thought they should kiss, long and slow, more often even as he began to nudge his brother towards the berthroom. ~Mirage will join us. We can be nice and warmed up for him.~

Sideswipe chuckled softly as his frame immediately began to heat at everything implied in those words. ~Ah yes, this is why we forget to kiss,~ he said, as they moved to their berth, hands already starting to wander, but stayed focused on the chest. ~So much else to do and enjoy.~

~No excuse to forget what else feels good,~ Sunstreaker rumbled, eager to take the dominant role that after decades of effort he could finally enjoy without blanking and rutting against or into whatever he was on top of. ~We should save our sparks for him. I want your valve.~

Sideswipe purred in deep approval. Taking his brother's spike had always been good, amazing, but having him be _present_ again, in a way he hadn't felt since mechlinghood, since before the arenas and crowds and underground fighting rings, was processor-blowingly _fantastic_. His hands immediately lowered, fingers splayed out over the panel before he was pushed forcefully down and back onto the berth, Sunstreaker following immediately to claim his mouth in a ravaging kiss.

They rubbed and pressed, their glossa twisting and battling for dominance while frames heated and panels retracted. Sunstreaker's groan of need came with his knees forcing the red pair apart and his fully pressurized spike nudging against his brother's valve entrance before holding there. 

Sideswipe immediately flickered gratitude for the pause and shifted the angle of his hips to rub against the length to give what relief he could while he took the time he needed to slick fully. Many mecha wouldn't have even considered pausing, some beyond that didn't even mind it _dry_ , but they'd been taken dry too many times to count, and repeating it with each other did no good. So he rubbed, and knew that his twin would wait as long as he needed, and when he _finally_ felt hot enough lifted himself to meet Sunstreaker's tip, pushing against it.

A low, grateful and need-filled groan answered along with the full, deep thrust that only ended when their hardware came together, his valve rim stopping Sunstreaker's forward momentum. ~Feels _so_ good.~

~Yes,~ Sideswipe moaned, and pulled his legs up and back, arms hooking beneath Sunstreaker's and hands grabbing his shoulders. All of it subconsciously designed to entice, consciously meant to spread himself open and hold Sunstreaker as close as possible. ~Nn, _yes._ ~

It was well noticed and received by the yellow mech who pulled back and thrust in deep, pulsing all the pleasure and _joy_ he felt over the bond. They still had the awareness to try and shield their third, unaware of just how ineffective they were at it as the thrusting picked up and mouths clashed in an eagerness to share how much they were enjoying this to the other. The sensation of Sunstreaker 's full awareness of his pleasure and his partner while on top was still novel enough to be relished.

~Oh, _yeah_ , frag me good,~ Sideswipe encouraged, his frame rolling into and meeting every drive into his valve. ~Just like that, _so_ fragging good.~ 

The excitement of being able to do this, feel it all together, still proved too much for them to handle for long, especially for Sideswipe. Having Sunny _with_ him was erotic beyond belief and the low, rhythmic grunting went straight into his systems, charged them up to the point of melting. ~Frag--fuck-- _fuck_ \--~ With every slam forward, another curse or encouragement, from as many languages as he knew, ~Yes, yes, _yes_ \--gonna--Sunny I-- _I'm_ \--oh _fucking_ \-- _Primus!_ ~

~Yes!~ Sunstreaker roared as he pumped hot transfluid deep, turned on just as much as his brother by being _there_ the entire time. His hips continued to thrust, driven by autopilot until his entire frame locked up, crackling and drenched in pleasure against his brother.

They were still there, frozen and panting together, when Mirage's voice over the bond broke through the blissful daze they'd sunken into. 

~I certainly hope you two enjoyed yourselves,~ he said prissily.

~Wha got'ya aft?~ Sunstreaker mumbled as he roused himself. ~Just warming up for'ya.~

 _Irritation_ rolled across the bond in thick waves, but the twins were well-versed in their bondmate's numerous moods and they could tell that it wasn't irritation with them, exactly, although they were definitely part of it, but rather at circumstances in general. ~Well now you're going to have to wait a little bit longer.~

~Huh?~ Sideswipe poked at the statement, confused as to why them getting off would delay their lover.

~You're okay?~ Sunstreaker prodded, thinking they may have caused him to crash.

~Of _course_ I am okay,~ Mirage said, and now there was irritation directed at Sunstreaker. ~You really think I am that unsteady of a driver as to let your overload cause me to crash?~

~Couldn't think of another reason you'd be delayed, and _upset_ ,~ the yellow mech shot back.

A grunt of annoyance and a pause. Sideswipe took the pause to try to soothe his brother with strokes to his helm fins. The last thing he wanted right now was for the evening to blow up in a clash of his mates' equally spectacular tempers. Most evenings he let them have at it, but _this_ evening he wanted everything to go smoothly. 

~I was trying to get home as soon as possible,~ Mirage finally snapped at them. ~You made me want to get there faster.~

~Cop-bot pulled you over,~ Sideswipe suddenly realized what had happened and cringed. Sunstreaker snickered and immediately got a fin twisted for it. 

~Hey!~

Sideswipe glared at him. ~We're sorry. We just wanted to be nice and warmed up, ready for you.~

~Well,~ Mirage said. ~We're working on your ability to not just _shove_ everything over. I am appreciative but the timing left something to be desired.~ A brief pause, in which they could tell he was talking to someone. ~Enforcer called in backup due to 'suspicious behavior.'~

~Just what were you _doing?_ ~ Sunstreaker asked between quiet snickers and trying to think of a reason _Mirage_ would behave ... well, okay, he was the professional spy. ~Besides speeding.~

~I...~ And for the first time, Mirage sounded flustered. ~You made me overload and I was trying to hide it but he had to choose _that_ moment to ask where I was heading.~

Both twins couldn't help laughing, though it was far more out of delight to have gotten their mate that hot across the bond than at embarrassing him.

~Should we come out and explain what we were up to?~ Sideswipe offered.

~In detail,~ Sunstreaker added with a snicker.

~You will do no such thing. I have matters under control,~ Mirage said icily, with a definite bristling feeling.

~All right love, and we'll behave so you don't end up 'recharging it off' in a cell,~ Sideswipe said with some fond memories of those parties.

~If I do you're coming to get me out,~ Mirage said, but the twins could feel him transforming and getting back onto the road. ~Feel free to stay warmed up, but _please_ , for the love of Primus, nothing like _that_ again.~

~Right, no overloads,~ Sideswipe agreed. ~How far out are you, at legal speeds?~

A sigh. ~Joor? Wartime I could have made this distance in a quarter that.~

~That long?~ Sunstreaker whined. ~That's _forever_.~

~We'll manage. Just be ready to be pounced when we get home if we aren't allowed to overload for that long.~ Sideswipe turned his attention to just how to manage that.

A cautious, uncertain flicker of agreement. It was unspoken but they all knew what was waiting. Luminous was an adult, their world was stable, even _Prowl_ had made a point to tell them their world was stable and Jazz would soon be carrying their next creation. The bond got still after that as their mate focused back in on the drive and watching his speed. 

~What was that about?~ Sunstreaker wondered. 

~He thinks we're going to pounce him to distract him from creating,~ Sideswipe said, and pulled his brother into a slow kiss. ~We'll surprise him otherwise.~

~Yeah,~ the yellow twin moaned into the touch and sank willingly into the slow, calming pleasure of the kiss. ~Think we can really hold out for a _joor?_ ~

~Gotta,~ Sideswipe said. ~We've done harder things.~

Sunstreaker grinned at him. ~Not many.~

* * *

With less than half a breem to his front door Mirage could feel his bondeds pick up on the proximity and work themselves into a right state. There would be _not talking_ for a while, that was for sure.

He shoved down everything he wanted to talk about and resigned himself to the rounds of interfacing they were revving up for. They'd get to the talking after, once he'd worn them out. And, he smiled to himself, at least it would be enjoyable. _Very_ enjoyable. 

He made his way inside and felt their welcoming flare of excitement. The door to their berthroom was open and he walked in to find them both waiting for him, with--

He froze. 

With their chests open. 

Sideswipe held his arm out to him, inviting.

~It's time, love,~ the red warrior said, earning a slightly nervous but agreeing hum from Sunstreaker.

~Yes,~ Mirage felt so much fall away as he felt their willingness, their intent, and comprehended that all the talking he'd braced for didn't need to happen at all. With a tremble of excitement he opened his chest plates and crawled onto the berth, into their arms and kisses and the lick of spark energy along his frame, seeking his spark as his sought theirs. His desire flooded out across the bond, joy and anticipation so bright there was no way for him to keep it from flooding to them. ~You were planning this,~ he realized with a trilling moan as their sparks brushed together, crackling and open. 

~Yes,~ Sideswipe said, drawing Mirage into a kiss as they settled him on his back and propped themselves up over him. ~Take our energy for new life. Carry for us, all of us.~

~We act,~ Sunstreaker added his agreement. ~Talking isn't our way when a path is set.~

~Love you. Want you happy,~ Sideswipe picked up as their sparks found each other, surging pleasure into frames and across the bond.

~Want to be more than monsters,~ Sunstreaker moaned, speaking of the rarely acknowledged truth that both twins really only viewed themselves as good for fighting.

~You are,~ Mirage said, with all the certainty he had in his spark of those words. He knew they were. He'd seen them, all of them, and he _knew_ that they were.

Their corneas came together and they stilled, panting and trying to hang onto the soaring bliss of being united for as long as possible as the single merged spark pulsed and throbbed. Frame awareness faded and shifted to the spark energy and Mirage swirled and danced around the united spark of his mate. ~Strong,~ he praised. ~Strong, loyal, caring, smart, creative, everything I could want for myself and my creations.~

The pair that were one moaned at the praise, the honesty with which it was delivered, and allowed it to soothe another jagged edge from their reality. They were still a ways from seeing it for themselves, but they _trusted_ Mirage as they _trusted_ themselves. He said, they believed, and they healed a little bit more.

Desire flared, willingness offered, and Mirage knew what he had to do. Kindling a new life was on him. They were offering, but it was not in them to desire as Mirage did.

And Mirage _did_ desire, longing beyond words as his spark opened up to them and asked to bear their creation, _begged_ to bear their creation. Their willingness was instantly latched onto, the gift they were giving him, and he immediately pulled them in. He was bared to them, when overload took him he would pull their energy into his chamber to mingle with his own. It was everything he'd been bred for. He knew the stages. He'd learned them over and over. 

The reality, of course, was somewhat different. They were pulsing into him, the heat was scouring and intense in his chamber, he could feel energy _blooming_ and writhing in the blissful pleasure. To know that his creation would come into being out of a union so ecstatic became more than he could bear and he screamed when the bliss tore through him.

The intensity of it all frightened the twins for the safety of their third, but they had studied, too. They knew what to expect, to an extent, and one thing was repeatedly emphasized in all the surviving literature.

_Don't pull away._

That was right up there with the _be willing_ and _want a creation_ in the short list of critical things. Unsettled by this as they were until they couldn't think anymore, they obeyed those instructions with the tenacity that had kept them alive through youngling pits, gladiatorial matches and a war that had all but destroyed their homeworld.

The entity with two frames was grateful, though, when it was separating from its third and all three frames and sparks were functioning well.

~Did we ... do it?~ the unified twins asked as their third roused.

Mirage grew very still, listening and feeling. Creating usually took several tries, but not always, and he'd had the strength of two fully formed sparks pressing in on his own. 

It was small, and soft, but it was there, he could feel a small swirling in his chamber, wisps of energy coming together. It felt so _fragile_. ~Maybe,~ he whispered, and pressed his spark out, trying to give the forming life the strength it needed. A moment later, it fell into an orbit around his chamber. ~Oh, _oh!_ ~ he cried, and he couldn't contain his joyful laughter. ~Can you feel--it's there, it took!~ His joy flared bright and full in the twins over the bond. 

~Not yet,~ Sunstreaker answered uncertainly. ~Should we? We're only sires.~

~Should we merge again?~ came from Sideswipe as he reveled in Mirage's emotions and willed them to feed his own.

~It's okay if you can't feel it,~ Mirage said as he pulled Sunstreaker into a kiss. ~Merging will help form a sire bond and _I_ want to, so come here, my loves.~ His chest split open.

The pair shivered and eagerly obeyed, willingly in their third's thrall and reveling in every moment.

* * *

Bumblebee walked up to the modest home that was Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Mirage's residence, lifting his hand in a cheerful wave to the red mech sitting on the front steps, and then faltered when he heard the yelling coming from inside.

Sideswipe lifted a cube in greeting as he finished his approach uneasily, and had he just heard a _crash_ inside? "Uh ... hey, Sides," he said.

"Evenin'," Sideswipe said, and rummaged around in his subspace. "Here for this, right?"

"Uh, right," Bumblebee said, accepting the custom flavored bottle of high grade. Another particularly vicious sounding scream followed by an indignant roar and then something that was _definitely_ a crash. "...Is ... everything, um, all right?" he asked, trying to sound politely cheerful.

"Oh sure," Sideswipe said with a casual shrug. Bumblebee gave a pointed look at his house, and Sideswipe's optics widened in comprehension. "Oh--oh! That. That's nothing. They just sort of get at it sometimes."

"Um ... in a good way?" Bumblebee asked cautiously.

"Frag no," Sideswipe laughed. "They're _pissed_."

"Shouldn't you, you know, be _in_ there?" Bumblebee asked, now definitely alarmed.

"Do I look like stupid to you?" Sideswipe asked, and at the former scout's look, quickly added, "Don't answer that. Let me rephrase. Do I look _suicidal_ to you?"

"They won't hurt each other?" Bumblebee asked worriedly.

"Ha!" Sideswipe barked. "That'll be the orn. Nah. They'll be fine. Give it a breem or three."

"What are they even fighting about?" Bumblebee asked, completely bewildered and at a loss for what could cause such a violent sounding disturbance.

"Um ... I think this one is about how much tint should be in the paint for the trim in the sparkling's room," Sideswipe said. He ignored Bumblebee's stare. "Last time it was about the hue for the walls, and that was _way_ worse, so." He shrugged and took a sip of his high grade. "Happens."

"Sideswipe--" Bumblebee said, and now he was _definitely_ worried.

"Nah, Bee, really," Sideswipe said. "Seriously. Pretty soon Sunny is going to give in and 'Raj will reward him by letting him pound him into a wall. They _love_ this."

"But ... you said ... that it would be suicidal to go in," Bumblebee said.

"Because it _would_ be," Sideswipe laughed. "Seriously mech, do you _hear_ them?"

"O ... kay," Bumblebee said slowly, then, "But ... I thought second creations were supposed to be all ... dunno, submissive and stuff."

"Common misconception," Sideswipe said. "They are supposed to conform to whatever it is their bonded wants them to be." He leaned in a little, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell you a not-so-secret. 'Raj wears the pants, and Sunny _loves_ it."

"Isn't stress, you know, not good for the sparkling?" Bumblebee couldn't help himself from poking at such a strange relationship. He really thought Jazz and Prowl were weird, but at least their background made sense to be twisted like they were. This ... not so much.

Sideswipe cocked his head, poking honestly at the bond. "There isn't stress, so much. 'Raj knows that it's going to end well. They both do. They're having _fun_. Well, in an abstract kind of way."

"So he likes to fight?" Bumblebee cringed at the sound of metal impacting metal as something else was thrown, _hard_.

"I guess, something like that," Sideswipe shrugged. "Just hang out and listen. You'll see. It'll go from fighting to thrusting soon. Then I'll venture back in."

Bumblebee smirked and finally decided to sit down next to Sideswipe and opened up his bottle. "You'll venture in and get all the good end benefits," he said, and took a sip and then hummed in appreciation. "You make the best brews."

"Thank you," Sideswipe grinned. "Who would have expected _me_ to be the rational, calm one? Seriously though, they both have high strung tempers. It's good for them to vent now and then." He paused as something large and heavy impacted the wall nearby. "That would be my brother. A bit more roaring and the foreplay will be over."

"You mechs are crazy," Bumblebee said, and just as Sideswipe predicted, a few more muffled rounds of shouting and then there was a sudden silence. "Um, is that..." 

"That would be Sunny giving in and the sparkling will have trim with a tint of four parts per dozen instead of three," Sideswipe said, finished his cube, and stretched his arms up over his head.

"So it's about to get a different kind of noisy," Bumblebee said as he stood, ready to be gone. He really didn't need to work up a charge when he had no one convenient to work it off with.

"Oh yeah," Sideswipe grinned as he stood as well, twisting at the waist and limbering up. "Right about..." A strangled shout. "Yep. I'll see ya, Bee." 

"Right," Bumblebee said, shaking his head with a soft chuckle. "See ya."

* * *

~Think 'Jack realizes how much danger he's in?~ Sideswipe snickered, watching the inventor-medic busy himself excitedly with setting up for his latest devised round of testing. Mirage was almost eight metacycles into his carry, his frame full with the twin protoforms that were growing inside. _That_ news had been shocking enough for the twins, but Wheeljack had probably blown a few circuits just thinking about the possibilities of having _two_ developing protoforms to test for sorcelling tech inheritance.

"Any additional discomfort?" Ratchet asked, ignoring the bustling around him and focusing on Mirage, who was sitting on the berth, watching Wheeljack warily. His engines were vibrating in a warning growl that was too low to hear, and Wheeljack was completely oblivious to the other warning signs. "Even the smallest amount. Joints, excessive heat production, unfamiliar pressure?" 

"No, no, no more than expected, nothing unexpected," Mirage answered calmly. _Ratchet_ always treated him well and did no more prodding than was required. Wheeljack not only poked and prodded out of curiosity, but his long-standing reputation for unplanned improvised explosions set Mirage's carrier code on edge. He'd put up with much of the testing out of respect for the inventor that had in no small part helped save the lives of his family, but the heavily gravid carrier was not nearly as sweet tempered as Wheeljack seemed to think.

~I think Wheeljack thinks our 'Raj is in an agreeable mood today,~ Sunstreaker rumbled to his twin, and stifled a laugh as the inventor taped two pieces of bizarre looking equipment together, watched them spark, nodded his satisfaction, and turned eagerly towards Mirage.

Ratchet spared a moment to glance in that direction, then back to Mirage. "If you could open your chest, I just need to do a quick infrared reading of your spark and theirs, and then I'll be done."

Mirage's focus was on Wheeljack, glaring death threats at the inventor before he unlocked his armor to display his spark for the medic he trusted. Despite the posturing, the twins could both feel the tiny trickle of fear that was the foundation of their mate's response to Wheeljack.

~Don't worry, love,~ Sideswipe tried to reassure as Ratchet scanned the spark chamber and the two below, testing to make sure that the migration from Mirage's spark chamber to their own had gone without complication. ~Ratchet won't let him hurt you or the twins.~

~If he _does_...~ Mirage's sub-sonic growl deepened, creating a vibration that could be felt rather than heard.

~He _won't_ ,~ Sunstreaker growled back, his engine rumbling in a deeper addition to Mirage's threat-threatened display.

"There we go, you can close up," Ratchet said warmly. "You are the picture of good repair and your twins are even better." 

The twins and Mirage both relaxed a bit, relieved at the expected news. 

"One moment!" Wheeljack said, stepping forward with bright optics and glowing fins, one strange looking device in each hand as the entire room went tense once more. "Just a few tests first!" 

"Wheeljack..." Ratchet said slowly, as Mirage's focus on the inventor got sharp and bright and the growl became audible for the first time, right along with the twins' deeper rumble.

"It's safe!" Wheeljack said, his characteristic first response to everything. 

"I'm not entirely sure _it_ is," Ratchet muttered with a roll of his optics as he regarded the carrier whose armor was starting to ruffle in warning. 

"No no it is!" Wheeljack said. "See it's just a hypo-mechanical quantum reader, completely harmless!" He came forward and held the pieces out, intending to fix them on either side of Mirage's chest. "Experimental of course but what isn't with this tech?"

Mirage's growl got louder and he hissed. 

"Oh--sorry did I pinch?" Wheeljack said cheerfully. "Here, I'll just--" 

The hiss got sharper and claws snapped out, and Wheeljack took a startled step back as the carrier took a swipe at him. He didn't even see the protective sires take a unified step forward, held in check only by Ratchet's look. The _last_ thing the medic wanted was to be piecing Wheeljack back together tonight.

"You _do_ have a death wish. I knew it!" Sunstreaker growled, his armor in that hard-to-learn combination of tight and fluffed that provided maximum protection, and consequently maximum intimidation value, even to mecha who didn't really understand it was a display only highly experienced warriors managed to learn.

"What?" Wheeljack asked, bewildered as he looked at them. "No I don't, it's a perfectly--" He looked at Ratchet, who cleared out his vocalizer. "...Uh, maybe later, I'll just..." He reached forward carefully to unclip his invention, only to get another hiss and claws that unsheathed as soon as he moved closer. 

"I think," Ratchet said, "That we're all done for the carry." He very matter-of-factly removed the device, handed it back to the inventor, then looked at Mirage. "You are healthy. You can go."

"Thank you," Mirage said with full haughtiness, but his field towards Ratchet was a warm thanks as he slipped off the berth and did his best to glide rather than scramble to his mates, who greeted him with relaxing armor and kisses in their embrace.

"We'll get home and fill you with nanites until you forget all about this," Sideswipe promised into a scalding kiss.

"Just do please wait until you're home," Ratchet said with a long-suffering tone to his voice, as Wheeljack drooped behind him.

Sunstreaker looked up and gave him a roguish grin. "Anything you say, doc."

"We'll take him _right_ home," Sideswipe purred, filling the bond with all his ideas for when they got there.

The last thing they heard as they hustled their purring, eager carrier out the door was, "'Jack, I love you but you can be a real moron sometimes..."

* * *

Ratchet had never witnessed the separation or carry of twins before, and the personal accounts of any from before the war had long since been destroyed. He was beyond lucky to have a living carrier of twins and Prowl had overseen one while still a seneschal, but he also recognized the limitations of their information. He hadn't ever specialized in newspark or separation care, though he'd been trained and luckily so, since many of his profession had perished during the war. 

Mirage's carry had started to concern him with the time it was taking, though Jazz also recounted a longer than normal carry so his hope was that it was just from carrying twins and needing to form twice as much protoform mass. Every checkup indicated all was well for both carrier and sparklings, so Ratchet trusted in Mirage's systems to do what they were supposed to, even if he didn't like not knowing for certain. So it was with much relief that he was called in to finally oversee the separation of Mirage's first creations. The frontliner twins, much like their creators, only trusted him to care for their mate. 

Prowl and Jazz beat him there and were already waiting with the triad by the time he arrived. They were in Iacon until the end of Jazz's second carry and he was already heavily into the protoform development. They were standing in the back of the room, Jazz grinning like an excited fool and Prowl as excited as he ever got, while the twins were on either side of Mirage, one of them holding each hand. 

"Ratchet," Mirage sighed in relief as soon as the medic stepped in. First time carriers were always terrified by the separation and the thought of everything that could go wrong. And, Ratchet thought while suppressing a chuckle, first time sires were worse. 

The twins latched onto his presence immediately. "We did everything you said--" 

"Windows open, cooling pads, cooling gel--" 

"He still says he's hot--" 

"He's fine," Ratchet said, shaking his head and stepping forward. "All right, let's take a look here," he murmured soothingly, falling back on every patient-care protocol he possessed as he plugged into the medical port on Mirage's neck. "Oh yes, you are doing just fine." 

~Hear that?~ Mirage purred to his twins, both sets of them. ~We're doing just fine.~

~Want _out!_ ~ Pitchback pushed through the bond, even less agreeable to staying inside until they were released naturally than their sires had been, at least according to Jazz.

~Sky. Need to _see_ the sky!~ Wingover whined sharply, just short of a demand.

It was still an active debate among the adults which one would become the dominant twin.

~Soon, _soon_ , my loves,~ Mirage soothed, while Sunstreaker and Sideswipe rumbled their agreement. ~If you rush you will hurt me.~

That stilled the restless pair for several impossibly long kliks as the last of the abdominal armor moved, but the moment light reached their optics there was a rush towards it by both.

"So who's going to choose the firstborn?" Jazz called out with delight, still enjoying adding random Terran slang to his speech.

"Don't you even think about it," Sunstreaker told his twin, who scowled but pulled his hand away to let the yellow mech reach in, after a nod from Ratchet, to help untangle one of the protoforms. Mirage gave a sharp, distressed whine the moment the hardline connection was cut, but when he saw the squirming protoform crawl out, there was _joy_.

Ratchet was there immediately with a scanner, taking readings as the newly separated sparkling chirped nonsense sounds and crawled up towards its carrier's arms. His twin came not far behind, helped out by Sideswipe. 

"Wingover," Mirage greeted the first sparkling, pulling him into one arm and kissing the unprotected helm before turning to the younger. "Pitchback. Darlings."

Ratchet's field flared with surprise, but not of the distressed kind. "Mirage ... oh Primus, they're both airframes," he murmured before setting up to doing more intensive scans while Mirage's internals and armor began to right itself with the smooth, well-cared-for sounds of a healthy, strong system.

"What?" Mirage asked tiredly, while the adult twins started and stared at the medic, looking faint. "They're both..." 

" _Sky!_ " they demanded in unison, having quickly worked out how to communicate with the vocalizer, turning towards the window. 

"H-how?" Sunstreaker asked, looking ready to collapse.

"There is a great deal of Seeker, Aerial and Rotor heritage in their lineage," Prowl spoke calmly. "I also believe that Storm Front was an Aerial?"

"Yes," Mirage nuzzled his creations. "I knew I'd been primed to carry airframes, but I never expected another grounder to sire one. Why didn't you detect it long ago, though?" He looked at Ratchet. "Airframes need different supplements and materials I'm not able to give them."

"They aren't like the airframes you're all thinking of," Ratchet shook his helm. "I didn't pick it up because they're _heavy_. Heavier than most grounders. I wasn't that surprised that you'd produce heavy built sparklings intended to take heavy armor," he nodded towards the twins.

"But they're okay?" Sideswipe asked, the only thing he cared about. When Ratchet nodded he slumped, exhausted from the joors of fretting over Mirage. He leaned in to claim a kiss, crawling carefully onto the berth as Mirage's armor folded back in, cuddling next to him. 

"Ha," Jazz said, grinning hugely as he and Prowl stepped forward. "Oh I can't wait to hear the stories." 

Sunstreaker had been quietly looking at the newly separated pair, and cautiously reached out to lift Pitchback in his hands. "Hello," he greeted, then in a wondering murmur, "They're so little."

"You were not any bigger," Prowl said with a soft smile as he stroked Sideswipe's helm. "They will grow _so_ fast you'll wonder if you were imagining they were ever so small."

Pitchback chittered at them both, radiating happiness at his sire's presence, but the yawn came quickly.

"Sky?" he requested again once the yawn stopped, and Wingover perked from his carrier's hold. 

Sunstreaker obligingly lifted the other little one and walked to the window so they could look out. They chirred happily as they looked upwards, then snuggled against Sunstreaker's chest. 

"Wow," Sunstreaker murmured, looking at them with the same wonder in his optics that they sparklings had had looking at the sky. "They're ... _wow_." Mirage and Sideswipe watched their mate with warm smiles, but they were clearly fading into recharge.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Prowl walked up behind him and gazed down at the tiny forms.

"Yeah," Sunstreaker said, and very carefully ran a finger over one of the unprotected helms. He looked at Ratchet. "Can they recharge with us?" 

Ratchet nodded. "They're healthy, Mirage is closed up properly, you should all be fine. Now remember--" 

"Diluted energon for the sparklings," Sunstreaker said. 

"Rest for Mirage," Sideswipe said, purring against their carrier-mate. 

"Comm me with any questions, comm me _immediately_ with any concerns on the emergency frequency," Ratchet said. "I don't care what time it is. And I'll see you in three orns regardless for their appointment." 

"Thank you Ratchet," Mirage murmured, reaching for Sunstreaker and his creations. They crawled onto his chest and curled up against his neck, chirring softly. Sunstreaker lay down once they were settled.

"You two, out," Ratchet told Jazz and Prowl. Jazz stuck his glossa out at him before leaning carefully over Sunstreaker and pressing a kiss to Mirage's helm. Mirage hummed gratefully to him. 

"They're beautiful," Jazz said. "Congratulations." 

"They are," Prowl touched each of the five in turn, affection and pride in his field before he turned to collect his mate. "You should be resting too," he said, nuzzling against Jazz's neck. Ratchet grunted in agreement. "Come. I'll fill you with more nanites after your nap."

Jazz purred to him and was easily led away with that promise. Ratchet followed after and closed the door and the triad settled in, trusting the older mecha to lock and arm their security system on the way out. 

"Love you all," Mirage murmured as his systems began to cycle down into recharge. His creations chirped to him, his mates rumbled, and the family settled in with each other, all of them radiating bliss to each other as they drifted into recharge.

* * *

"Do I have to?" Mirage asked quietly, looking down at the sparklings recharging in his arms before lifting his optics to Ratchet, almost pleadingly. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe didn't have to and they're okay..." 

"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had a carrier with fragged second creation protocols, including the creation protocols," Ratchet said patiently. They'd all known this was going to be difficult for the first-time carrier. He'd even scheduled the appointment early to account for hesitation.

"But..." 

"Luminous had it done, their next sparkling will have it done," Ratchet said. "You know we _have_ to."

"To end my culture and what it did," Mirage nodded, miserable and hurting on a level that was beginning to upset the sparklings.

"It'll be easier for them, living without the protocols in this new world," Jazz said gently, the memories of having Luminous's coding edited sharp in his mind. It had been hard on him. Across the bond it had felt like it was killing Prowl despite how steady the Praxian had held himself. It had taken vorns to completely settle Prowl, and even now there were flares, moments when his mate wanted to keen in despair at the loss.

"And it's _law_ ," Ratchet said, still as gently as he could manage, but with a firmness that made Mirage bristle and hiss softly. 

His mates were immediately on either side of him, soothing before his anxiety could turn into temper. "It'll be all right," Sideswipe promised, trying to comfort something he knew there was going to be no real relief for. "Won't it be better, knowing that they're doing what their spark wants, instead of what some programming is telling them?" 

"It isn't just 'some programming!'" Mirage snarled at his mate and squirmed out from between them, backing up and holding his creations and looking like he was protecting them from a much greater danger. His armor began to ruffle in a threat display. 

"Not at our age, not for what our lives were, a mate selected before we were younglings," Jazz spoke up softly as he moved to comfort Mirage with a defensive posture. "It's our _culture_ we're giving up, accepting having it stripped from the creations we carried and raised. I can do it," he offered very quietly. "It doesn't have to ever leave _us_."

"I'm _supposed_ to pass all of it on," Mirage said pleadingly, as his sparklings began to chirp anxiously.

"I know," Jazz leaned over the sparklings, shielding them with his frame as he rested his forehelm against Mirage's. "I know. Doing this to Luminous almost destroyed us, but _look_ at him. He's happy. He belongs in this world in a way we never will. We hurt ourselves for their sake. It's how it works."

Mirage whined quietly, a sound of unfiltered, absolute distress that went right to his mates' sparks and made them both cringe from it. The sparklings mewled their echoing distress, and that startled Mirage enough that all his focus immediately went to them, calming and caressing. "They'll be healthier," he finally said, once they had settled. 

"Yes," Jazz promised with everything he was. 

"Okay," Mirage whispered, steeling himself, and Jazz stepped away. He walked to the medic, one slow, forced step at a time, and held them out for Ratchet to take. 

"There we go," Ratchet said warmly as he accepted them, cradling them in his arms. "We'll be back in a few joors, safe and sound," he promised the carrier before disappearing with them into his medbay. 

Mirage turned to find Sunstreaker right there, arms encircling him, and pressed his face to his mate's chest and wailed. Sideswipe was against his back a sparkbeat later, the pair shielding him the only way they knew how, with their frames. From a few steps away, close enough for Mirage to teek his support, Jazz hummed to soothe even though he knew there was no soothing this.

"The sparklings, love," Sunstreaker said carefully. "You're upsetting them."

Mirage shuddered and nodded, visibly pulling himself together enough for his mates to guide him over to sit in the waiting area.

* * *

"Prowl, Jazz, anyone?" Sideswipe called as he made his way through their front door, one squirming sparkling in each arm. He set them down and they immediately zoomed away to find their grand-creators. Sideswipe rolled his optics and kept track of them through the sire bond as he followed. He heard the delighted cheers when they found Prowl in his office, smiled, and made his way to the spare room that he would be staying in with his family for the next decaorn. It had once been Luminous's room and was currently Nocturne's, though the sparkling was more than happy to give it up in order to recharge with his creators.

The hallway to the berthrooms was through the living room and he headed that way, idly monitoring his twins when he heard a low growl from ahead, followed by a shriek. His pace picked up and he turned the corner in time to see Jazz lunge towards Nocturne, who had backed himself into a corner and was staring with huge optics. That look, he _knew_ that look-- _it meant the glitch wasn't specific to him and Sunstreaker_. "Hey-- _hey!_ " he shouted, and shot forward, grabbing Jazz and throwing him onto his back and dropping over him in a pin. " _Prowl!_ " he roared.

"What the _Pit!?_ " Jazz snarled as he squirmed to break the pin, but he would need more time to manage it. 

"What?" Prowl's called back, already rushing towards the living room, acid pellet riffle in hand and missiles ... something he _shouldn't still have_ ... unfolding into position as he burst into view and tried to make sense of the scene. Jazz, cursing and demanding answers from where he was pinned under Sideswipe while Nocturne keened in confused distress at the sudden anger and fear all around him.

"He was going to hurt Nocturne, I saw it!" Sideswipe said, struggling to keep the pin in place. "It was just the same!" 

Jazz went still, staring at him. " _What?_ "

Prowl's weapons disappeared and he hurried to comfort the young sparkling. "Jazz, what did he see?"

"Um..." Jazz said, as a very startled and confused Sideswipe suddenly found himself trying to pin a completely unresisting mech. "...Oh. Yeah I guess that..." He squirmed and tried to sit up but Sideswipe just scowled at him. Jazz huffed and lay back. "Yeah it probably looked about the same. I was being an Enforcer looking for sparklings who haven't been tickled enough today. Made a jump for him, he's a squirmy thing." 

"You _growled_ ," Sideswipe said. 

"I hit my pede on the chair he pushed into the doorway!"

"He looked _terrified!_ " Sideswipe countered.

"He was not," Prowl said with absolute conviction as Nocturne settled and the sparkling twins made their way to the door to look in at all the excitement. "Whatever you saw, Jazz was not glitching and Nocturne was not afraid. Both bonds were fully open to me." Prowl looked at the twins. "I told you to stay."

They cycled their optics up at him, a silent, _So?_

"I see your carrier has not instilled the discipline I expected," Prowl's disapproval was palpable in the room and every line of his frame. Despite that, Nocturne snuggled against his chest and purred softly.

"Hey, they're little _angels_ when 'Raj is around," Sideswipe said as he let Jazz up. "Just ... not me 'n Sunny so much." He suddenly felt incredibly awkward. "Um, sorry," he told Jazz.

"You've got reason to see the worst," Jazz sighed as he stood and went to tickle the tiny being he had carried. Nocturne giggled and shrieked and squirmed in Prowl's arms.

"Yeah but..." Sideswipe said. "I should probably not, you know ... attack."

"You didn't attack," Jazz pointed out, calmer than he should have been. "You pinned me. Didn't even scratch the paint. It wasn't any more serious than what I was planning for this little pit spawn," he grinned at the least appropriate nickname in history.

"Not a pit spawn!" Nocturne giggled, grabbing at Jazz's fingers. 

"No, you're not," Jazz purred at him before looking at Sideswipe. "Really, it's all right." 

"You're weird when you're high on carrier protocols," Sideswipe said as he sat up and found himself being climbed on by his sparklings.

"Not half as weird as Prowler here. He gets all mushy and puts 'facing over work," Jazz snickered at the sight of one of the most feared mecha on either side of the frontlines being successfully pinned by two sparklings not even three metacycles old. "Speaking of being weird when high on creator protocols."

"Hey, it's good for them," Sideswipe rumbled as he scooped his creations up and nuzzled them. 

"Hello, have I missed the fun?" came Luminous's smooth voice as the young adult leaned around the doorway, looking in. "I saw Sunstreaker and Mirage pulling up, too."

"Unless by fun you mean getting to watch Sides here pinned by his own sparklings," Jazz snickered, his good humor making Nocturne squeal happily. "Which is fun, by the way."

"Any luck on the romantic front?" Sideswipe winked at his second youngest brother.

"If by luck you mean have I found my sparkmate, no, no luck," Luminous said with a smile just this side of a smirk. "I get enough, don't worry." 

"You'd better be careful getting enough," Jazz said as he greeted his creation with a hug. 

" _You?_ " Sideswipe barked with a laugh. "You telling someone to be _careful?_ "

"I'm always telling my charges to be careful, especially when I know they're going into dangerous territory," Jazz said with a far more indignant manner than he was feeling.

"That is true," Mirage spoke as he stepped around Luminous to gather his creations. "He told me many times to be careful of you two terrors." 

"They could use a few more lessons on what 'stay' means," Prowl said with a tolerantly indulgent look at the scene. "They are like ... what was that term you used for Nocturne?" he glanced at his mate.

"Velcro kitty," Jazz supplied with a laugh. "It's adorable though. Speaking of velcro, where's Memor?"

"It's at home, I didn't want the chaos that happens when those three get wound up together," Mirage said as Pitchback and Wingover climbed up all over him. Pitchback got up on his shoulder and leapt off, making Mirage whirl with a startled gasp, just in time to see Sunstreaker catch him. 

"Whoa there," Sunstreaker said, holding the sparkling up and giving him a stern look. "What did we say about jumping?"

"Not to," Pitchback sulked. 

"Unless one of your creators says it's okay," Sideswipe said, rising and greeting Mirage with a kiss.

"They're going to be terrors to control when they get their first flight upgrades," Prowl's optics glittered with all the mischief he was well aware the pair would be capable of creating. "Have you considered hiring a flight frame caretaker when that happens?"

"I got it," Sideswipe said, gesturing over his shoulder at his jetpack. 

Prowl gave him a patient look. "That does not offer the same maneuverability that they will be capable of when they are young." 

"Yes, we're going to look into it," Mirage said. 

"Good choice," Jazz said as he set Nocturne down on the floor to go play with his cousins. "Well, we're all here and dinner is ready, shall we?"

"Yes," Mirage nodded, content and secure that the sparklings, no matter how industrious or clever, would not escape or get hurt in this room of his creator's home. "I see Nocturne is healthy and growing well. Has there been an indication of his spark gift?"

"Mm, no," Jazz said, watching them play, then glanced back at his adopted creation. "What about yours?"

"Not yet. The twin bond makes it far more difficult to pick such things out," Mirage smiled at the trio. At less than a metacycle apart, they were fundamentally the same age even by human standards. "They're smart though, and creative."

"And very physical," Sunstreaker chuckled. "I've already had to replace the locks of my supplies twice."

"And I replace mine every time he does just on principle. We do not need them getting into the still," Sideswipe shuddered at what that could cause.

"Definitely not," Jazz agreed, watching the rambunctious twins wrestle with his more mild creation. They tussled together for a few moments, then Wingover noticed something and halted, causing Pitchback to run into him and send them both sprawling to the ground. 

"Hey!" they protested together as Nocturne quickly backed up out of the way. Mirage was there an instant to help untangle and calm. 

"You stopped," Pitchback accused. 

"But look," Wingover said, pointing at the painting that served as the focal point of the room. He looked back at the younger of his sires questioningly. 

"Yes, I painted that," Sunstreaker said with a proud smile, both for his work and for his creation's ability to pick his style out already.

"Who are they?" Pitchback asked curiously. 

"My creators. Prowl, Radiance and Jazz. From before the war," Nocturne said, happy to be the one with answers. "Radiance isn't here anymore." 

As the sparklings chattered together, Luminous wrapped an arm around his sire's waist and leaned in to brush their helms together. "I loved the stories," he said quietly. "You know, sometimes I find myself talking about him like he was always there, like I knew him." 

Prowl trilled softly, both a sad note for what they had lost and intense pride that Luminous felt that way. He smiled a bit more at the way Jazz melted into the contact at those words.

Yes, this was what being a triad should be. Even absent physically, Radiance was still _there_ , even for those who had never met him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fandom: Transformers G1 Historical AU  
> Author: gatekat, Vaevade on LJ  
> Pairings: Mirage/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, Jazz/Prowl  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Codes: AU, Sticky, Spark, Bonding, Twincest,  
> Summary: When an untouched noble second creation joins the Autobots, the last thing he expected to find was love.  
> Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page <http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html>. We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read. 
> 
> nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter


End file.
